The Ties That Bind
by fluteface
Summary: *Now complete.* What brought about the change in Archie Kennedy from the first series to the second? Here's a theory... 19 Chapters Total Please R
1. Default Chapter

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The Ties That Bind

by Kathy Kirchner

Chapter One

"What the bloody hell does the fool think he's doing?"

As First Lieutenant of _Indefatigable, _Anthony Bracegirdle knew from long experience that his captain did not want an answer, but instead was merely ranting against their opponent. The very capable officer had served with his captain for many a long year, and knew the man better than any other, and he had learned when to speak and when to remain silent. Right now, silence was the correct course to take. The captain was not at all happy about the ship they were chasing, and Bracegirdle shared his captain's opinion. This was a most unusual foe. He braced his legs as _Indefatigable _shuddered, but still she held her course. His eyes narrowed as he studied the ship on their lee.

The _Intrépide_. They'd come across her while on patrol deep in the Atlantic. She was small - absolutely no match for the power of the _Indy_, but she'd insisted on trying to flee while firing the few guns she had at them. Bracegirdle shook his head as he watched the ship try to outmaneuver the _Indy_, her captain obviously intent on the strategy of striking quickly and often, but it was doing no good. Out of the corner of his eye, he stole a glance at his own captain.

Captain Sir Edward Pellew was furious. He stood atop the quarterdeck, his rage coming off him in waves, and his dark eyes glaring across the sea. How dare such a puny ship presume to think it could overpower his _Indefatigable_? It was almost an insult, or would be, if it weren't so entirely laughable. By god, she'd pay for her impudence! He glanced down at the deck below.

"Mr. Hornblower!" he bellowed. "If you **please**, sir!"

The young lieutenant looked up at him, a lock of curly dark hair falling over his eye. "Aye, aye, sir!" he responded, then turned his attention to the men of his division. "Styles, Matthews. Oldroyd, pull!"

The three men, already hot and sweaty from their exertions in the hot sun, stepped up their efforts a bit more. Matthews, the senior member, primed and aimed the gun, while Styles turned and raised the barrel, and Oldroyd loaded the shot. Powers, whose job it was to damp down sparks before reloading, and Savage, who moved the gun barrel and passed ammunition, rounded out his division. Now, powder loaded and primed, the gun run out, they completed their jobs with the ease of long years working as a team, each man instinctively knowing how the others would respond.

"Fire!" yelled Lieutenant Horatio Hornblower.

With a roar and a gasp of smoke, the gun spewed her deadly cargo across the azure sea, unerringly finding her mark. The men of _Indefatigable_ could see the hit, pieces of deck splintering and flying into the air, and could even hear the screams of some of the men wounded in the strike.

"That's much better, Mr. Hornblower!" yelled his captain. "Continue! Mr. Kennedy! I expect the same results, sir!"

Acting Lieutenant Archie Kennedy threw a quick salute to his captain. "Aye, sir!" he responded, his face lighting with a wide grin. "I shall endeavour to do my best, sir!" He turned to his own division, his twinkling eyes catching Horatio's on the way. Horatio couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes slightly. Archie, his shipmate and best friend, sometimes had an irreverent streak that ran very deep, and though he was proving himself an excellent officer, he sometimes drove Horatio to despair with his ability to find humor in even the bleakest of circumstances. No doubt it came from Archie's overcoming his own tormented past, and conscious decision to make the best of whatever life chose to throw at him. Horatio, who tended to be a brooder, was always looking for the reasons for why things happened, or how he could have done something differently, or better, or how he could turn something that appeared to be a disadvantage into an advantage. Archie merely went about the business of living and took things as they were. Sometimes he wondered how they could be such close friends, but close they were. It was the shared experiences that had done it - being locked together in El Ferrol, the futile mission at Muzillac, the bullying by Midshipman Jack Simpson, the fact that both had endured time in the oubliette while in prison - it had brought the two men together in a way totally unexpected for Horatio. He'd never had a friend before. Archie was also a fine officer, and Horatio could think of no one else he would want at his side, in wartime or peace.

"Fire!" Horatio's thoughts were interrupted by Archie's command, and he silently cursed himself. How could he possibly have allowed himself to become distracted during battle? Good god, he could have cost lives! Mentally flogging himself and shaking his head, he turned back to his own men.

How in the world was the _Intrépide _still afloat? She was mocking them, he decided angrily. They'd come across her yesterday at dusk. She'd claimed to be a merchant ship on a run to Marseilles, carrying only linen, but as night had fallen over them she had slipped away, only to reappear this morning, guns blazing. It was a futile, suicidal move, and Horatio could not figure out what her intentions were. She'd obviously studied the _Indy_ last night, and had to have seen the power of her guns and the men that crewed her. Perhaps her captain was mad, he decided. He'd heard of ships afloat, with mad captains at their helm, and he wished no part of that. He could only pray that he would never have the misfortune to serve aboard such a ship. Returning his attention back to his own men, he soon lost himself in the mechanics of battle, appreciating the efforts of his own crew.

Matthews, Styles and Oldroyd had been with him for several years, ever since he had come aboard his first ship, _Justinian_. They'd all transferred over to _Indefatigable_together when war broke out, and he had been placed in charge of that division. He'd only lost two men in the time he'd been in charge - Finch, a good man who'd saved his life, and Davy Williams, killed in action. They'd been replaced by two strong, honest, and likeable men named Powers and Savage.

Archie, on the other hand, had not been so fortunate. After his return from their time as prisoners in El Ferrol, he had inherited the division of the former midshipman Hunter, and they were a mixture of good and bad. Walters, Haversham and Whitney were adequate, and had, under Archie's tutelage and guidance, become fine seaman, although they still had some way to go before they reached the level of Hornblower's division. Archie had proven to be a fine teacher and leader, though, and they were slowly coming around. It never failed to amaze Horatio how incredibly patient Archie could be with the men, and it was finally beginning to pay off.

Not coming around, however, was Seaman Malley, a bitter man who despised his life aboard ship. Malley had been pressed into service, and had never adapted to shipboard life, instead complaining and sulking, drinking and fighting his way through life. His bitterness especially extended to all the officers, and Archie in particular. He lost no opportunity to belittle the man who led his division, and the two of them had seriously clashed on more than one occasion. Malley constantly challenged Archie's authority. He'd convinced another man from his division, Fuller, to join him in his fight with the officers, and the two of them were notorious for being what Pellew termed an "undisciplined rabble."

"Dammit, Malley, do your duty!" Archie's voice roared across the busy deck, and Horatio glanced over at him. Archie may be patient, but he did not suffer fools gladly, nor would he accept anything less than the very best from his men, for if he didn't, he knew that he would be the one to suffer the wrath of Captain Pellew, and that was something no one wanted to witness.

Horatio, again busy with his own crew, couldn't hear Malley's response, but he caught the disdain and disrespect in the man's voice, and looked again at his friend. Archie's face was flushed from the heat, and no doubt from anger at his recalcitrant seaman. Horatio watched as Archie physically pulled the man away from the cannon, and shoved him back.

"I'll not hear that from you, Mr. Malley," he responded. "Now fetch us some fresh powder."

Malley's mouth dropped open. "Powder? I ain't no damn powder monkey."

"You are now," Archie snarled, and took Malley's place at the gun, removing his jacket as he did. Malley still remained on deck, glaring at Archie with pure hatred on his face. None of the other men would dare to look at him, and finally he threw down his linstock and left the deck, returning shortly with a fresh can of powder. Archie took it from him, meeting his angry gaze with a determined one of his own.

"She's firing, sir." Bracegirdle's calm voice carried down to the men on deck, and all turned as _Intrépide_ fired her guns. The shot splashed ten feet short of _Indefatigable_, and Pellew slammed his fist on the rail.

"Get her, by god, or no rum rations for any man!"

So inspired, the men quickly set about their duties, and cannonballs flew across the sea, but the French ship, still quite maneuverable, easily avoided them. Horatio soon forgot the confrontation across the deck, and returned to his duty, driving his men harder. They responded magnificently, and shot after shot rained down on the enemy ship, but still she kept going, returning fire against them.

The crew of _Indefatigable_ continued their assault, with many of her shots finding their target. Horatio stole a glance across the deck to where Archie still worked the cannon. Both of their shots were true, but they could not defeat the tiny ship.

How is she doing it, he thought in amazement as he looked across the sea. Her sails are aflame, her forward cannon silenced, but still she keeps firing! It's as if the demons of hell themselves power her.

Smoke from the cannons and shot covered the deck of _Indefatigable_. It was becoming difficult to see through the haze, but still the men kept on, refusing to let their pride be damaged by defeat at the hands of such an unworthy opponent.

Not quite so unworthy, Horatio thought wryly, as a shot from the enemy ship hit her mark. He heard screams from injured men, but ignored them as he studied the ship battling them. Quickly, he calculated her speed and extrapolated the trajectory of his cannon, and then turned to his crew.

"Matthews! Ten degrees and double shot! We'll get ahead of her."  


The veteran sailor nodded, and expertly adjusted the cannon, raising the breech, and then glanced over at his commanding officer.

Horatio waited, until just the right instant. _Indefatigable_ rose upon a swell, then dipped down into the trough, just as _Intrépide_ tacked the wrong way. "Fire!" Horatio yelled, and the gun spat forth a lethal ball of lead. It found its mark, smashing into the hull of the _Intrépide_, whose guns immediately ceased firing. The men of _Indefatigable_ let out a cheer as the enemy ship slowly listed over, and started to go down. There would be no chance of saving her, no prize money to be awarded, but none of the men cared. The _Indy_ was safe.

Well, relatively safe, thought Horatio, as he surveyed the deck around him. That last hit had been pretty bad, especially on top of the other hits they had taken, but the _Indy_ could take it. She could take just about anything, he thought proudly. He turned to speak to his men, to set them about their duties, then turned back to survey the ship.

Seaman Walters, from Archie's division, appeared at his side. "Sir?"

"Yes, Mr. Walters?" Horatio asked distractedly, his thoughts focused on what needed to be done to repair the ship. She'd suffered the loss of her mainsail, but that could certainly be repaired quickly enough. The other sails all appeared to be relatively unimpaired. The quarterdeck was also basically intact, and his eyes wandered further down, to where there had been a direct hit. He winced. The gun had been taken out, the remains blackened and smoking. Over there had been another…

Wait, his mind said urgently, and he turned back to the destroyed gun, his heart racing. No. The gun.

The gun that Archie had been working.

He spun around to look at Walters, noting now the paleness of the man beside him. "Walters?"

The man nodded. "It hit off to the side, sir. We lost the gun, but not the men. Mr. Kennedy got us away 'fore it hit, soon as 'e seen the loose powder."

Breathing a quick sigh of relief, Horatio nodded. "And Mr. Kennedy?"

Walters shuffled his feet a bit, then spoke carefully. "He weren't next to the gun when it went, sir - I seen 'im helpin' Haversham to 'is feet. It 'appened later, sir."

Horatio went cold. "What happened later, Walters?"

Walters looked at him helplessly. "I don't rightly know, sir. He were there one minute, checkin' things out, but when I looked back, 'e were flat on the deck."

Horatio clenched his jaw. No emotion, he reprimanded himself. Not in front of the men. "He's injured, then?" Please, not a fit, he thought. He's not had one in so long…

"Aye, sir," Walters said softly. All the men aboard ship knew how close the two officers were, all of them well remembered Archie racing across a bridge set to explode, to rescue Horatio. "Haversham an' Whitney brung him down to Doc Hepplewhite."

Nodding, Horatio looked back at his own men. "Thank you, Mr. Walters. Please see to getting that gun cleaned up and over the side. Take Oldroyd and Matthews with you until Whitney and Haversham return." He glanced back to the remains of Archie's gun, but could see no sign of Malley or Fuller. "And find out where the other two men of your division wandered off to. They should dispose of that gun themselves."

"Aye, sir," said Walters, knuckling a salute and moving back to his station. Horatio sent his men to assist him, all the while forcing his thoughts from his friend lying down in the sick berth. Brooding and worrying would do him no good.

It was several hours before things got back under control. The few survivors from the French ship were pulled from the water and locked up, with Marines guarding them, and the deck of the _Indy_ was set to rights. She'd suffered more severe damage than Horatio had at first thought, including the loss of her mainsail and topgallant mast. They'd be here for awhile.

"It's looked better, eh, Mr. Hornblower?" It was the sailing master, Mr. Bowles, a favorite of Horatio and the officers, as well as the regular crew. Knowledgeable and genial, he was indispensable aboard the _Indy._

"That it has, Mr. Bowles," Horatio responded with a small smile. "She'll soon be set to rights, though."

"Aye," agreed Bowles. His eyes turned to Horatio. "Mr. Bracegirdle sent me to tell you that you stand relieved."

Confused, Horatio looked at him. "But there is still work to be done."

"Yes," nodded Bowles, "but you have a friend awaiting you in sick berth."

Guilt swept over Horatio. In all the repairs he'd been doing, he had truly forgotten about Archie and his injuries. He looked again at Bowles. 

"Have you heard, sir, how he fares?"

A shadow passed over Bowles' round face. "No, I have not. I trust you will keep us all informed? The captain also wishes an update."

"Aye, aye," said Horatio, nodding briskly. Well, if the captain wished him to be in sick berth, that is where he should be. "I will find out how he is."

Bowles smiled a little as he watched Hornblower leave the deck. No matter how much the young man tried to hide it, the friendship between the two men was important to him, and Bowles never failed to be delighted by it. It was such a rare thing to see in His Majesty's Navy. Hornblower could be much too serious for his own good, and Mr. Kennedy somehow managed to keep him from being in a constant state of melancholy. The two lads were very good for each other.

It was almost quiet in the sick berth when Horatio arrived, with only a couple of sailors present. Good, he thought. No loss of life, and no major injuries. Except, of course, for Archie, and he had no idea if his friend's injuries were extensive. That was what he had been sent to find out.

Dr. Hepplewhite looked up at the sound of Horatio's arrival, and moved to meet him at the door.

"Lieutenant."

Horatio's eyes searched the sick berth, which was only dimly lit by the softly swinging lanterns. He caught sight of a familiar figure lying unmoving in one of the cots on the far side of the sick berth. "How is Acting Lieutenant Kennedy, doctor?"

Hepplewhite hesitated, and Horatio swung around to face him. "I asked you a question, doctor. How is Mr. Kennedy?"

The doctor shrugged. "I have found no evidence of serious injury. No splinters, no shot, no wound of any kind."

"And yet he lies in your care, doctor. What ails him?"

"He is unconscious."

Exasperated, Horatio took a step closer, and the doctor backed away slightly. "I can see that much for myself, sir. I asked you a question, doctor, and I require an answer, if you please."

Hepplewhite sighed. "I honestly do not know, Mr. Hornblower. He woke up briefly and we spoke. I think it best if you speak to him yourself."

Turning away from the doctor, Horatio made his way through the surgery, barely noticing the doctor following along behind him. Archie lay upon a bed, a bandage wrapped around his head, his face pale and his eyes closed. Horatio stood next to his bed, and looked across Archie's prone body, to speak to the doctor.

"I thought you said he had no injury. Why is there a bandage upon his head?"

Hepplewhite's voice was slow and measured, as if he were weighing each word before uttering it. "He appeared to suffer a blow to the head, though I do not know from what."

Horatio returned his gaze to Archie, noting the steady rise and fall of his friend's chest. "Well," he mused, "the gun exploded right next to him. I would imagine that something from the cannon flew off and struck him in the head. You did say he had regained consciousness?" 

"Yes," Hepplewhite nodded. "I asked him several questions, to try to gauge the extent of his injury."

"And did he answer you satisfactorily?"

"No," Hepplewhite said, a tad bit uncomfortably. "Not exactly."

"And just what does that mean, doctor?"

Just then, Archie stirred slightly, and his eyes slowly opened. Horatio smiled and sat down at the foot of his bed, his hand resting on Archie's foot. Archie's blue eyes focused on Horatio, but he didn't say anything.

"Well, hello, Mr. Kennedy!" Horatio teased. "Taken to lying about on your bed, have you? What will your friend Mr. Malley think about that?"

Archie didn't answer, and his eyes shifted back and forth between Hepplewhite and Horatio. The doctor shifted his feet uncomfortably, not looking at either man, and Horatio began to feel uneasy. Something was wrong here.

"Archie? It's not like you to be so silent. Has your voice perhaps been injured as well?"

A puzzled look crossed Archie's face, and he drew himself to a sitting position, then looked again at Horatio.

"I'm sorry," he finally said very politely. "Do I know you?"

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	2. Chapter Two

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Chapter Two

Horatio stared at his friend, then leaned back as he realized what Archie must be up to. "Very amusing, Mr. Kennedy," he said with a touch of sarcasm. "It is good to know that your unusual sense of humor was not knocked out of you when the gun blew. It won't get you out of your next watch, you realize."

His brow knit in puzzlement, Archie looked at Horatio. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

Horatio's smile faded. "You are not jesting?"

Dr. Hepplewhite stepped forward, moving to stand at Archie's head, looking at Horatio still seated at the foot of the bed. "I fear he is not, lieutenant."

"He doesn't know who I am?"

Hepplewhite shook his head. "No, he has no memory of any of us, or of his life aboard _Indefatigable_."

"That's not possible."

"Of course it is. As the son of a doctor, surely you must have heard of instances such as this, even though it is not at all common." He looked at Archie, then sighed and looked back at Horatio. "I had thought that seeing you would perhaps jar his memory, but obviously it has not."

"But he is aware of things around him?"

"Hey," protested Archie. "Stop speaking of me as if I am not here in the room."

Hepplewhite and Horatio both inclined their heads slightly. "My apologies, Mr. Kennedy," Horatio said, still reeling a bit from this unexpected development. "How are you feeling?"

"That's better," Archie grumbled as he leaned back. "To be honest, my head hurts like the dickens, Mr…?"

"Hornblower," Horatio supplied helpfully.

Archie, his blond eyebrow arching a bit, looked back and forth between Horatio and the doctor. "Hepplewhite and Hornblower? Am I aboard the Ship of Silly Surnames?"

Horatio almost choked at the look on Dr. Hepplewhite's face. No, Archie's sense of humor was indeed intact. At least there was one positive thing.

"Dr. Hepplewhite," he said, careful to keep any hint of laughter out of his voice, lest the doctor take offense. "Other than a loss of memory, Mr. Kennedy is well?"

Dr. Hepplewhite, still shooting a look of indignation toward Archie, nodded to Horatio. "Yes, Lieutenant Hornblower," he answered, emphasizing Horatio's last name slightly. "He is physically fit for duty."

That gave Horatio pause. Was Archie truly fit for duty? Could a man with no memory be trusted to do his duty, without danger to the ship or the men? Would he even know **how** to do his duty? That would not be his decision - his duty was only to determine the extent of Archie's injuries, and report them to his captain.

"Very well, doctor, thank you," he said. "I shall inform the captain." He rose to his feet, and before turning to leave, he looked down at Archie, a soft smile crossing his lips. Memory loss or no, that was still his best friend lying in that bed.

"Take care, Mr. Kennedy," he said softly, his brown eyes meeting Archie's blue. "I will return to see you as soon as I am able."

There was no emotion in Archie's eyes, no recognition at all as he looked back at Horatio. "Thank you, Mr. Hornblower, but I am sure you have many other things you would rather do than spend your time conversing with a stranger."

Horatio bit back his automatic response - how could Archie be a stranger? - and merely shook his head. "I may be a stranger to you, sir, but you are not to me. Perhaps if we spend time together, your memory of us will return." He glanced over at the doctor, then back at Archie. "Just be certain sure you follow Dr. Hepplewhite's instructions. I know that stubborn streak of yours, Mr. Kennedy, and I suggest you keep it under wraps until the doctor is convinced you are well." With a nod to the doctor, Horatio left the sick berth.

Archie's gaze followed Horatio out the door, and then he turned back to Hepplewhite. "Doctor."

"Yes, Mr. Kennedy?"

"I do know that man?"

Hepplewhite smiled. "Yes, indeed you do, Mr. Kennedy. The two of you are really quite close, in fact. You seem to have a talent for getting yourself injured, and whenever you are lying here in my sick berth, Lieutenant Hornblower has always spent every spare moment beside you, nursing you back to health."

Archie frowned. "I keep injuring myself?"

Hepplewhite laughed, remembering all the different things that had sent Archie to his care. Since coming aboard _Indefatigable_, there had been numerous instances, though nothing like when they had served aboard _Justinian_. The injuries Archie had sought treatment for while aboard the _Indy_ had been much different than the darkness he had been exposed to aboard his first ship. Hepplewhite shuddered a bit, remembering the torment Archie had suffered at the hand of nasty Jack Simpson, the unspeakable acts the man had committed against the young boy. 

Equally bad had been Hepplewhite's cavalier treatment of Archie's injuries. He hated how he had basically ignored the boy's pain, even laughing about the cause of it, and continuing to overlook it each and every time it had happened. Archie had never sought treatment from him, for he had been horribly humiliated at the cause of his injuries, but occasionally Midshipman Clayton or seaman Matthews had brought the boy to him, when the injuries had been life-threatening. And what had Hepplewhite done to aid him? Merely wiped away the blood and put a wet cloth at the site of the worst damage, all the while laughing, and calling Archie Jack's whore. He had no excuse for himself, other than that he had become a drunkard, trying to deal with all of the awful things that were aboard that ship, the evil that had lurked in the heart of Jack Simpson and those who followed him. 

Simpson had owned him, plain and simple, though not in the way he had owned Archie. He had stolen the boy's youth and innocence, had nearly killed the lad, and every time Hepplewhite caught a glimpse of the shadows that still lurked behind Archie's eyes, even here aboard _Indefatigable_, he vowed over and over that somehow he would redeem himself. Like Archie, he had been given a second chance when he transferred to _Indefatigable_, and he had made the most of it. He would never be a brilliant surgeon, but he could at least be a better one, and he could ease the pain of all the men aboard this fine ship. And though he could never make up for how he had treated Mr. Kennedy, he did his best to take special care of him. Of course, considering all the times Archie appeared in his sick berth, he had ample opportunity for that.

Turning his thoughts from the past, he looked down at Archie. "Yes, Mr. Kennedy, you do seem to find yourself in the midst of some trouble or another quite frequently. It's one of your many talents. But whenever you do, Mr. Hornblower is always by your side. It's quite touching, actually."

Still frowning, Archie didn't quite meet Hepplewhite's eyes, his eyes looking around the sick berth. "Touching."

"Oh, yes. I have never seen a friendship quite like yours - it's really more than a friendship."

Archie's head jerked up, his blue eyes burning into Hepplewhite's. "Doctor, are you insinuating that Mr. Hornblower and I are…"

"Heavens, no, Mr. Kennedy," Hepplewhite rushed to assure him. Yes, there were always nasty rumors from some of the men about the two officers, but Hepplewhite had never believed it for a moment. He had seen what that type of relationship had done to Archie, and though he could not swear to it, he truly doubted that the boy would ever involve himself like that. Still, the rumors persisted, though Hornblower and Kennedy seemed to be blissfully unaware of them. "The two of you are as brothers to each other. Nothing more."

Archie nodded, then flinched. "Doctor, is there nothing you can do for this pain in my head? It's quite unbearable."

"Alas, Mr. Kennedy, there is not much I can do. You must rest."

Sighing, Archie rubbed his temples. This was the worst pain he could ever remember. He grinned a bit at that. It was quite possible he had suffered much worse pain than this, but he had no memory of anything, not even his own name.

"Thank you, doctor," he finally said. "I think that a splendid idea."

"Very well," said the doctor, moving about the nearly empty sick berth and turning down the lanterns. "You get some rest, and I will bring you some broth a little later."

Archie watched as the doctor checked on the other patients and then left the room, going into his small office to the side, and then he eased himself down to lie upon the bed. He didn't attempt sleep, for his mind was racing much too fast for that. Staring up at the timbers above his head, he tried to piece together what he could from the few things the doctor had told him.

He was Acting Lieutenant Archie Kennedy, serving aboard the frigate _Indefatigable_, under Captain Sir Edward Pellew. He was only recently promoted to Acting Lieutenant, shortly before some sort of unpleasant business in France, though the doctor had been rather vague about just what had transpired. They were at war. His closest friend was Lieutenant Horatio Hornblower. He had a talent for getting injured.

But what **other** talents did he have? Was he a good sailor? Did the men of his division like or respect him? What was he like when he was away from the ship? Did he like music? Did he have a sweetheart somewhere, waiting for him? Who was his family? Was he happy aboard ship? Did he have other friends, besides Hornblower? Did he enjoy himself while on shore leave? What frightened him? What gave him great pleasure?

Frustrated, Archie rolled onto his side. Nothing was coming to him, nothing sounded familiar. He only knew what he knew about himself because Dr. Hepplewhite had told him these things, and he accepted them as fact. He had to start somewhere.

Maybe if he closed his eyes, the memories would come back, maybe scenes from his life would flash before his eyes. Surely everything couldn't just be gone. There must be something, somewhere, that would trigger his memory. He let his eyelids fall, his mind centered on nothing but the blackness behind his lids, feeling the breath as it moved in and out of his chest. Nothing.

He tried to imagine a shape of a body - no face, just some sort of image to get him started, some idea of someone he would recognize. The only thing that came to his mind was the concerned personages of both Hepplewhite and Hornblower.

Dammit. He already **knew** those two - well, somewhat. He knew who they were, but only because they had told him as much. He still had no idea of how good of a doctor Hepplewhite was, no recollection of why he and Hornblower were friends.

..._The two of you are as brothers to each other_...

Why? He may not remember people, but he did know that friendships such as that were not the norm in the Navy, for there was always the threat of transfer or death to separate the men, so close relationships were not exactly encouraged or even welcomed. So why were he and this lieutenant such good friends? And why did he feel no connection to the man now?

Frustrated, Archie rolled back over onto his back, groaning slightly at the sharp pain that stabbed through his head as he did so. Lightning flashes of bright colors flew behind his eyelids, startling him just a bit. As the colors faded, so did the pain in his head, gradually subsiding to merely a mild throbbing, as opposed to feeling as if someone were burying a cutlass in his skull and trying to carve out his eyes from the inside. 

This was pointless. All he ever got when he tried to remember anyone was a big, black void, a chasm that stretched out endlessly before him, full of the unknown. Sleep was what he needed. Maybe everything would come back to him in the morning. Or perhaps he would dream of something from his past, something that would spark the other memories to come flooding back.

Or would he dream of other things, unpleasant things? Life aboard a warship was difficult, he knew that, and it was not an easy life to lead. Maybe he could not fall asleep because he did not want to, maybe he feared the dark. He lay silently for a moment, waiting. No, he decided. I feel no fear about anything, just an uneasiness about not knowing anything about myself. Perfectly understandable. Sighing, he forced himself to lie still, thinking of nothing but the sound of the _Indy_ as she rose and fell gently upon the swells, listening to the creaking of her timber, and gradually feeling a peace settle over him. He recognized these sounds. The _Indy_ was his home, he was sure of it. And so, wrapped safely in her protection, he gradually drifted off to dreamless, restorative sleep.

*****

When he awoke the next morning, stiff and a bit chilled, awareness was slow to come to him. There were sounds of men moving about the ship, the sounding of the watch, the laughter and song of the men as they went about their day. Archie lay still for a moment, just thinking.

Nothing has changed, he thought with a sigh. I can't remember anything else about this ship, about her crew, about my own life. Slowly, he sat up, grunting a little at the sharp jab of pain in his head. He sat still for a few moments, breathing deeply until the pain passed, and then he raised his head and looked around.

The sick berth was empty, though he could see a shadow moving around under the door to Dr. Hepplewhite's office. All the other injured men had been sent back to their own hammocks, he assumed, probably because their injuries were not serious. So it's just me here by myself, he thought. All alone. There was a bit of irony in that. He truly **was** alone, without even his memories for company.

"Ah, Mr. Kennedy," Hepplewhite greeted him as he exited his office. "How is your head today?"

"Still attached," Archie grumbled, and Hepplewhite laughed.

"Well, you just see that it remains attached here in sick berth. I'm going to go fix you some breakfast, so you wait right here." Picking up a wooden bowl, the doctor left the room, whistling "Drop of Brandy" as he went.

Archie leaned back, then sat up. Sitting here would do him absolutely no good - he needed to be out and about, where something might spark his memory. It certain sure wouldn't happen here.

"Sorry, doc," he said. "Some things a man just has to do himself."

****


	3. Chapter Three

****

Chapter Three

"This is most unfortunate, Mr. Hornblower."

Horatio, still standing at attention in the captain's cabin, nodded. "Aye, sir, it is."

Sitting behind his desk, Pellew studied the chart in front of him, unconsciously drumming his fingers on the edge of the finely polished cherrywood. It was bad enough that _Indefatigable_ was for all intents and purposes dead in the water, now he had to deal with this on top of it. His brow knit in concentration, he didn't realize that several minutes passed while he was thinking. It was only the sound of something being dropped up on deck that seemed to bring him back into the room.

Looking up, he noticed Hornblower still standing at attention. Waving his hand at his lieutenant, he said, "At your ease, Mr. Hornblower."

Horatio relaxed slightly, but kept his place across from his captain. Immediately after leaving Archie in the surgery, he had hastened to Pellew's cabin to give him the update on his acting lieutenant. His report had been brief and to the point. Mr. Kennedy was physically fine, but his memory was gone.

"Unfortunate and unusual, I'll wager," Pellew said. "And most unwelcome."

"Sir?"

Pellew sighed. "We are aboard an injured ship, lieutenant, and the loss of one of my officers is damned inconvenient right now. Mr. Kennedy's services are needed, if we are to reach London in six weeks."

Bristling slightly, Horatio kept his voice calm. "Well, sir, it is not as if Mr. Kennedy planned this..."

Pellew whipped his head up, anger crossing his face. "That is not what I meant, sir, and it would do you well not to presuppose you know what I am thinking."

"My apologies, sir. I meant no offense."

"Hmm," Pellew replied, his anger - always quick to rise - abating. "Very well. My thinking was that _Indefatigable_ needs to be in London in six weeks for a very important appointment."

"Appointment, sir?" Horatio kept his voice level, wondering how a captain could be so removed from his men that he would think a mere appointment was more important than the health and well-being of one of his officers.

Pellew suppressed a smile. He knew what was in the boy's heart right now, and he could see the dismay that Hornblower was trying to hide, dismay that his captain could be so unfeeling toward one of his own. Well, he would have to learn sometime that friendship did not come into play when one was in command, that the safety of the ship and all of her crew was what mattered. However, now was not the opportunity for that. 

"Yes, Mr. Hornblower," he said. "You see, Mr. Kennedy is scheduled to take his examination for lieutenant at that time."

Horatio looked up in astonishment. "His exam, sir?"

"You sound surprised, sir. You do not think him ready?"

"Oh, no, sir, that's not it at all. It's just, just....well, he never mentioned anything to me about it, sir."

"I'm not surprised. He doesn't know yet himself."

"Oh," was all Horatio could think to say. He knew Archie was ready, knew that he was slowly developing the confidence in himself and his leadership abilities that were so necessary to pass the exam. Or at least, he HAD been ready. He looked up, to meet Pellew's eyes across the desk.

"And now he's lost his memory," Horatio said quietly. "It's quite..."

"...unfortunate," finished his captain.

"Unfortunate," agreed Horatio, with a small, sad smile. Archie had worked so hard, had spent all his free time studying, and now he would not be able to take the exam. It could be a very long time before he would have another chance. Life just did not seem to be very fair to Archie Kennedy.

"Well," Pellew continued, his voice brisk and businesslike. "Six weeks is a long time. Perhaps Mr. Kennedy will have recovered sufficiently by then to attend the exam."

"I truly hope it to be so, sir."

"As do I. In the meantime, I think it best if you speak to his men, and tell them his condition. I'm sure they will be concerned. Even Mr. Malley."

Horatio looked up at that. He wasn't aware that Pellew knew of the animosity Malley felt for Archie, but obviously he did. A twinge of unease passed over Horatio. He knew that Archie had been trying to work this out on his own, not wanting to bother the captain with such a trivial matter, but if Pellew knew of it, he obviously hadn't been doing enough. And now, heaven knew what would happen.

"Don't look so surprised, Mr. Hornblower," chided Pellew. "A good captain always knows everything that is happening on his ship." He stared intently at Horatio. "And I do mean everything, lieutenant."

"Aye, sir," Horatio said, coming to attention again. "I'm quite sure all of his men will want to know how he fares." Nodding his head, he left the captain's cabin and headed aft. Archie's detail would be working on repairing the sails.

The sun shone on his face as he came on deck, and small white clouds lazed across the wide blue sky. All around him, men were working steadily on their repairs. His own men were helping repair the topgallant mast, and he watched them for a few moments, proud of the sailors they had become. Once upon a time, they, too, had been termed by Pellew as an "undisciplined rabble" and yet they were now men he was proud to serve with, capable and strong. There might just be hope for Malley and Fuller.

He continued on down the deck, taking note of all the repairs going on, and making sure all the men were doing their utmost to help, and not slacking off. His gaze found Lt. Bracegirdle, and the older man shot him a questioning look, but all Horatio did was nod back to him. The first officer would find out soon enough what had befallen Archie this time, and Horatio had orders to speak to the men of Archie's division first.

He found them repairing the sails, as expected, and he held back for a moment, studying them as they worked.

Walters, the oldest, had quickly become Archie's right-hand man, proving himself to be almost another version of Matthews. Pressed into service just a few years earlier, he had fallen in love with the sea and his place aboard ship, and he always had a quick smile upon his grizzled face, or a joke for everyone. Wiry but strong, he had a wife and four children ashore. He was extremely loyal to both Archie and _Indefatigable_.

Working next to him was Whitney. Young, wide-eyed and idealistic, he had joined the Navy for adventure and excitement, lured by the promises of prize money and glory. Still very new to sea-life, the landsman worshipped all officers, and took whatever they said as gospel, which oftentimes got him into trouble. Archie loved to tease the boy whenever he got a chance, for Whitney would believe anything Archie told him, no matter how far-fetched it may be. Reality and disillusionment had not yet set in for the young man, and Horatio knew that Archie always wanted to protect that part of him. Horatio suspected it was because Archie had never been able to keep that part of his own life - it had been ripped away by Jack Simpson when he was far too young.

His gaze turned next to Malley, working across from Walters, or barely working, rather. Stabbing viciously at the sail, his dark red hair glowing in the sun, he was muttering to his companion all the time. Big and hulking, Malley hated serving aboard ship, and never made a secret of his feelings. Not overly bright, he spoke of his hatred for all officers loudly and often, and his hatred was especially directed toward Archie, who had made it plain from the outset that he would take none of Malley's attitude, and expected him to pull his weight with all the other men. Malley belittled him constantly, though after several punishments, he now at least had the sense to restrict his comments to times when the officers weren't around. He was, to put it simply, mean through-and-through. A character best left alone unless absolutely necessary.

Next to him was Fuller, his constant companion and fellow troublemaker. Barrel-chested, dark-haired and swarthy, he rarely spoke. He followed Malley without question or comment, and the two of them were rather an interesting contrast, especially standing side by side, for while Malley was a big man, Fuller was very short. A fine hand with the lines, he nevertheless often had to be pushed to do his duty.

And that left only Haversham, the wild card. Nothing was known about him, except that he had joined the Navy on his own, reputedly to escape an unpleasantness of some sort. With sandy-brown hair and dark chocolate eyes, he was ruggedly good-looking, with an air of danger about him that ladies found absolutely fascinating. His exploits on shore leave were well celebrated, but no one knew anything about his life before he came aboard _Indefatigable_. A man of mystery, thought Horatio, not for the first time. And no one, including Archie, was quite sure where his loyalties lay.

"Men," he said quietly, but with enough force to carry to them. All five looked up, and Walters rose to his feet.

"How is 'e, sir?"

Horatio stood next to them, taking in all their expressions. Concern from Walters and Whitney, indifference from Haversham, and outright disdain from Malley and Fuller. He focused on Walters and Whitney.

"He has suffered a blow of some type to the head. Physically, he seems to be fine, though a little weak." Blast, he thought as Malley snickered. Wrong word to use.

"That ain't exactly a s'prise," Malley sneered. "He always were weak."

"That's enough, Mr. Malley," Horatio said sharply. "Mr. Kennedy is suffering a bit from dizziness due to the head injury, but that will soon pass. However, there is a bit of a complication."

"What kind of comp'cation, sir?" It was Whitney, looking very worried.

Horatio took a deep breath. "It seems that Mr. Kennedy has lost his memory."

The men all stared at him for a moment, disbelief on all of their faces. It was Malley who broke the silence, guffawing loudly.

"Lost his mind? Ha ha! I heard it ain't the first time! So it's Bedlam for him, is it? 'Bout time, I say. "

"Silence, Malley!" Horatio roared. How in heaven's name did Archie deal with this man? "He has not lost his mind. He has merely lost his memory."

"I don't get it, sir," said Whitney slowly. "How is that possible?"

Horatio fixed his dark gaze on the confused young man. "I am not a doctor, Mr. Whitney, so I cannot give you an explanation. I do know that it happens occasionally, following an injury to the head, but other than that, I cannot tell you more."

"So is it permanent?" asked Haversham curiously.

Horatio shrugged slightly. "No one knows for certain. Most likely it is only temporary, but how long it will last is anyone's guess."

"Can we visit 'im, sir?" asked Walters hopefully.

"I am not sure if that is such a good idea right now, Walters. He won't recognize you, and seeing so many new people might only serve to confuse and distress him." He smiled at the older seaman. "Give him a few days, and then we'll see."

"Aye, sir," said Walters, then turned to the rest of the men. "Let's get this sail repaired, men, so we can get the _Indy_ underway."

Horatio watched as the men turned back to their work, Malley and Fuller grudgingly continuing on with their chore. He turned to look about the deck for Lieutenant Bracegirdle, wanting to fill him in on Archie's condition, but the first lieutenant was just leaving the deck and heading below. Most likely he was reporting to the captain, so Pellew would fill him in. Sighing, Horatio headed over to his own division. Matthews, Styles and Oldroyd had served with Archie for quite some time, and they would want to know his condition. Matthews, especially, had become rather protective of Archie over the past year, wanting to make up for his not protecting the boy from Jack Simpson and his like, and there was now a definite respect between the two of them.

"Afternoon, Mr. 'Ornblower, sir," greeted Matthews as Horatio approached the group. His division was now back on deck, checking the lines to the foresail. Horatio quietly filled them in on what had happened to Archie.

Matthews' face was solemn. "That sounds pretty bad, sir."

"It may well be," Horatio said honestly. "The doctor has no idea whether this will be a permanent condition, or if Mr. Kennedy will recover his memory in a matter of days. Unfortunately, there is just no way to know."

"But 'e'll be fine, right?" said Oldroyd anxiously. "Mr. Kennedy allus comes out all right, don't he."

Horatio smiled at him. "Yes, Oldroyd, he does seem to always land on his feet somehow. I imagine he will this time, too."

"Sure hope so," said Styles quietly. "Boy's been through enough." He and Matthews exchanged glances, and Oldroyd dropped his head. The three of them knew of every one of Mr. Kennedy's struggles, all right, since they'd served with him from the day the boy first set foot upon _Justinian_.

"Very well, men," Horatio said, grateful for their concern. "Carry on."

"Aye, aye, sir," said Matthews as they all turned back to their duty. Horatio watched them for awhile, and then began walking the deck, looking for any missed repairs that needed to be finished.

By evening, _Indefatigable_ was patched together well enough to set sail. Midshipman Masters was put in temporary charge of Archie's division, and the ship turned for Portsmouth for more comprehensive repairs, where she would stay before then making a short sail to Gibraltar, and then back to London in time for Archie's exam. Horatio, like all other officers, remained on watch until it was apparent that she would be able to sail without any unmanageable or noticeable problems, and then he headed down to sick berth, armed with the well-wishes of his men, three of Archie's men, Mr. Bowles, and the other lieutenants.

"Good evening, Mr. Kennedy," he said as he reached his friend's side, a smile upon his face. "How are you feeling?"

Archie glanced up at him. "Good day, Mr. Hornblower," he said politely. "I am fairly well, thank you, except for this blasted headache."

Concerned, Horatio drew up a seat next to the bed and sat down. "Your head still aches? Has not Dr. Hepplewhite given you anything for it?"

Archie looked at him, feeling rather uncomfortable. He did not know this man, and he wasn't sure just how much he should share with him. He studied the face across from him, wondering if maybe it was just another officer, trying to help a fellow officer recover. The concern on his face seemed real enough, though, so he tried to put aside his trepidation and act as if he **did** know him.

"He has, but feared giving me too much would harm instead of heal, so it is only in small doses. It really is much better, though. I just wish he would let me out of this place. I grow weary of lying here alone." He sighed. "He is also quite angry with me, for earlier, I escaped and ventured up top. Unfortunately, he captured me before I got on deck."

Horatio smiled. Yes, that was Archie, impatient as always. It was only when instructing his men that he showed much restraint - in everything else, he always wanted to move ahead, keep going, throwing his heart ahead of his head and going full-flung into life. An image flashed into Horatio's mind - Archie, face and uniform splattered with blood, brandishing his sword after his first real hand-to-hand battle, his face shining, his eyes sparkling - he'd been so **alive** that day. So ready to face the world, and never look back. At least he tries, thought Horatio sadly. There are just some things he can never seem to escape.

"I see your injury has not increased your level of patience, sir," he teased. "I'm certain sure that Dr. Hepplewhite will release you when he sees fit."

"Well, he'd better see fit soon," grumbled Archie, "or I'm going to fight my way out of here. Have you a cutlass to hand? I may need to borrow it."

Horatio laughed lightly, something he never seemed to do around anyone except for Archie. He already missed having his friend up on deck beside him, or conversing with him in the ward room, or in their quarters for the more personal discussions.

"Sorry, Archie," he smiled, and saw Archie tense up at the familiarity. "I'm afraid I do not. You'll just have to remain here until you are released." Trying to turn the topic, he told Archie of the well-wishes of his friends and division, and saw Archie begin to relax a little.

"Walters, Whitney and Haversham?" he inquired. "Those are my men?"

"Yes," Horatio answered. "And fine men they are - you've done a wonderful job with them."

Archie was frowning slightly. "Three is too small for a division aboard a ship the size of _Indefatigable_. Were some lost in the fighting?"

Horatio paused. Archie knew the size of his ship, and how the complement of men was divided? Was his memory returning already? Not wanting to raise Archie's hopes, and aware that Archie hadn't even realized what he was saying, he proceeded carefully forward.

"There are two others, still alive and with us. They are simply not…demonstrative men. To show emotion is quite foreign to them." So, it was a lie. Archie did not yet need to know the animosity Malley and Fuller felt toward him.

"I see," Archie said, nodding. "That is quite understandable. Like it or not, there is a division between men and officers, a line best not crossed. Can't have discipline falling through the planking, can we?"

"No," answered Horatio slowly. That was not like Archie at all. He usually broke all the unwritten rules in regard to officer/crew interaction. He spent time with the men, and considered Matthews to be a true friend, not just a subordinate. He oftentimes went ashore with them, spending time in pubs with them, at least those times when Horatio had to remain aboard and couldn't join him. He was one of the most popular officers because of it, because he treated them as men, and as regular human beings, not as slave labor aboard ship.

Noticing how tired and pale Archie was beginning to look, Horatio rose to his feet. "I should leave now, Mr. Kennedy. I do not wish to overtire you."

"Thank you," Archie said, looking up at him. "And I thank you for your kindness in visiting me, sir. It has been quite…lonely… down here."

"It is my pleasure, sir," he replied softly. "It is nothing less than you have done for me when I have been confined here. Your memory will return, Archie, I have no doubt. Rest now, my friend. With your permission, I shall return to visit tomorrow."

A slow grin spread across Archie's face. "I believe I should like that, Mr. Hornblower. Thank you."

His heart rising with hope, Horatio left the sick berth and headed to his cabin. The visit had been extremely enlightening and positive. There **were** things Archie remembered. Size of his ship, strength of a division, etiquette between officers and men - who knew what else could be lurking there, just below the surface? Tomorrow, he vowed to himself. Tomorrow we shall begin to explore just how much he does know.

****


	4. Chapter Four

****

Chapter Four

Morning rose, with _Indefatigable _limping toward home, battered and bruised, but still proud, beautiful and seaworthy. With fair winds and calm seas, she should reach Portsmouth within the week, thought Horatio as he paced her deck in the warm sunshine. She'd suffered some internal damage, and would put to for more extensive repairs once they arrived. 

He was anxious to reach Portsmouth. Perhaps there would be a doctor who would be able to help Archie. Although he had been impressed and a bit astounded by the gentle care that Dr. Hepplewhite was giving his friend, Horatio hoped that there would be someone with more experience in something of this order. Hepplewhite clearly did not know how to aid Archie in recovering his memory.

"Fair morning, Mr. Hornblower," commented Bracegirdle, meeting Horatio upon the deck. 

"Indeed it is, sir," said Horatio with a smile. "It bodes well for our voyage home."

"Anxious to see olde England again, are you?" teased Bracegirdle. "Have you a new sweetheart awaiting you, perhaps?"

Horatio blushed. "No, sir. It is just that I am concerned for Mr. Kennedy, and I would like to see him receive some treatment for his condition."

Bracegirdle sobered. "Yes, that was most unusual. Captain Pellew informed me of the poor lad's problem. How fares he?"

"He was well enough last night, although his head is paining him, of course. Other than the memory loss, there seems to be no other injury."

"It must be very difficult," sympathized Bracegirdle. "For both of you."

"Both of us?" said Horatio in surprise. "I suffered no injury."

"No, but still, it must be very hard for you, seeing your friend like that, and not having him recognize you. Do you think…" his voice trailed off, and his eyes widened a bit as he looked across the deck. "It appears, sir, that our Mr. Kennedy is doing better than you thought."

Horatio turned around, following Bracegirdle's gaze across the deck. Archie, fully dressed, had just arrived topside, and he hesitated a moment, glancing around at all the men. Several of them stopped work, some of them gaping at the acting lieutenant as if he had suddenly grown a horn out of his forehead. Spying Horatio, he made his way across the deck.

"Mr. Kennedy!" Horatio greeted him. "Dr. Hepplewhite has released you?"

Archie made a face, a typical Kennedy grimace. "No, he refused, so I waited until he went to get some breakfast, and left by myself. There was no need for me to remain there - I am perfectly healthy."

"I don't believe that is your decision, Mr. Kennedy," scolded Horatio. "The doctor knows better than you what will best speed your healing."

"The doctor doesn't have the least idea," grumbled Archie. "He'd be perfectly happy if I were to just lie upon my bed and not breathe until we reach shore." He looked defiantly at both lieutenants. "I'll not remain there another moment. I need to work."

Horatio and Bracegirdle exchanged grins. Archie certainly **seemed** to be all right. Still, he wasn't quite himself, so Horatio thought it not prudent to simply loose him upon the ship. 

"Mr. Bracegirdle?" he queried.

"Oh, you're not **serious**," Archie said, his mouth dropping open. "I truly **am** serving aboard the Ship of Silly Surnames."

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Kennedy!" exclaimed Bracegirdle, pretending indignation. "That is no way to speak to your superior officer. You are but an **Acting** Lieutenant, or did you not realize that?"

"My apologies, sir," Archie said, inclining his head. "I meant no disrespect." He grinned at the two of them. "Perhaps we can blame it on my memory loss."

"This time, Mr. Kennedy," Bracegirdle said with false severity. "This time." He turned to Horatio. "Mr. Hornblower, I believe it best if Mr. Kennedy were to remain with you for now. You can show him around the ship, so he becomes familiar with her once again."

"Aye, sir," agreed Horatio. He glanced over at Archie. "I beg your indulgence for a few moments, Mr. Kennedy, as Mr. Bracegirdle and I have not yet had a chance to discuss the watch change and course corrections. We shan't take long."

"Oh, very fine," Archie said easily. "Do not hurry on my account. I'll just stand over here like a good little acting lieutenant, and mind my manners." Flashing an impish grin at them, he stood off to one side, watching the men as they went about their duties. Horatio kept an eye on him while he and Bracegirdle discussed their business, but Archie pretty much stayed in the general area, so Horatio eventually stopped paying attention to him and concentrated on discussing the _Indy_'s wounds.

"…do you think that best, sir?" Horatio inquired. "The carpenter should be able to fix that with no problem, if he…"

"You there!" came Archie's voice across the deck, and Horatio and Bracegirdle both swung around to find him. He was headed across the deck, toward several men working at one of the cannons. Horatio's heart dropped. What did Archie think he was doing?

"You cannot do that," Archie said. "See, if you rig the cannon tackle and breech in that manner, as soon as there is any kind of pitch, you'll have cannon chasing you across the deck. Have you ever seen a man run down by one of these guns?" 

The chagrined seaman, probably all of 19 years old and on his first voyage, shook his head. "No, sir."

"Well, it is not a pretty sight. Most likely, IF he lives, he'll have lost the use of both his legs, and what kind of sailor would he be then?"

"Er, not a very good un, sir, I'd wager," the seaman answered.

"Precisely, sailor," answered Archie. "Here. Do this," he said as he began demonstrating how to tie the line securely, passing the strong hemp rope through a thimble and quickly strapping it to the pomelion of the gun, "and you'll not risk harm to the ship or the men." Skillfully, he secured it to the ring-bolts on the side of _Indefatigable_.

The sailor watched intently, nodding his head. "Aye, sir, I understand. Thankee."

Archie nodded as he watched the sailor finish securing the gun with another line, then turned around. Bracegirdle and Horatio stood there watching him, both with equally raised eyebrows. Archie looked at them warily.

"What?"

"Mr. Kennedy," said Horatio in wonder. "Do you know what you just did?"

"Of course I do," Archie said with exasperation. "I showed a young seaman the best way to secure a cannon."

"No, Archie. You **remembered** how to secure a cannon."

"Oh," Archie said, his mouth dropping open yet again. "I did, didn't I." 

"Indeed you did, sir," Horatio said, a wide grin on his face. What a wondrous development this was! He looked up as Bracegirdle put a gentle hand on his arm.

"Mr. Kennedy," said Bracegirdle. "What else can you tell us about this gun?"

"She's a 24 pounder," Archie said, his voice quickening with excitement. "The _Indy_ carries 26 of them on her main gun deck, with eight 12 pounders and four 42 pounder carronades on her quarterdeck. The forecastle also holds four 42 pounder carronades as well as four long 12 pounder chase guns. She's built for war."

"That's excellent, Mr. Kennedy," Bracegirdle said, taking Archie's arm and leading him down the quarterdeck. "Now what can you tell me about her sails?"

Archie studied the majestic masts, then launched into a detailed description of each sail and its function, when to reef or unfurl, what lines should be used and what knots should be tied. It was an impressive demonstration of nautical knowledge, and Horatio felt his hope rising again. Archie really knew what he was talking about. 

"Well done, sir," said Bracegirdle, and Archie beamed. They were now amidships, standing by Horatio's division. Bracegirdle pointed to Matthews.

"And do you recognize that man?"

Archie looked over at Matthews, who was working hard at shoring up the main mast. His smile fading, he looked back to Bracegirdle.

"No."

Bracegirdle sighed. "I'm sorry, Mr. Kennedy, but I had to be certain. Your knowledge of seamanship appears to be intact, but it seems that your memory still has not completely returned."

Archie's shoulders slumped dejectedly, and Bracegirdle put a comforting hand on his arm. "Do not despair, Mr. Kennedy. You must be patient, and wait for it to come to you. I have no doubt that it will."

"But when?" Archie said, quietly desperate. "What use am I to be, if I cannot recall the names of my shipmates, if I do not know anything of my own past? For all I know, I am a murderer, or a buggerer of children, or a thief...."

"Easy, Mr. Kennedy," Horatio broke in. "Trust me when I say you are none of those things. You are a fine man."

"But **I** don't know that!" Archie cried. Turning away from the officers, he stared out to sea, gripping the railing and fighting back tears of anger and frustration. "You tell me these things about me, about my life, but I don't **know** what you are speaking of!" He turned back to Horatio and Bracegirdle, unhappiness shining from his blue eyes. "I do not know who I am."

Horatio exchanged a concerned look with Bracegirdle, who shook his head slightly.

"Mr. Hornblower," said Bracegirdle. "Perhaps you should show Mr. Kennedy the lower decks. Show him his cabin, and where he messes." Reaching out, he patted Archie lightly on the shoulder. "Do not despair, Mr. Kennedy. All will be well."

"Aye, sir," said Archie quietly. He followed Horatio down below, not speaking at all. What good am I, he thought sadly. I am of no use to anyone like this.

"So," said Horatio, with forced cheerfulness. "Shall we find you something to eat?"

"No, thank you, Mr. Hornblower," Archie said. "I really am not hungry."

Despite himself and Archie's obvious mood, Horatio grinned. "But Mr. Kennedy - you are going to drink, you're going to eat, and you're going to get better!"

Archie didn't react at all to the familiar phrase, instead just looking blankly at Horatio. "Am I, Mr. Hornblower? Am I going to 'get better'? I am not so certain of that."

"Well, I **am**," Horatio said firmly. "You may not know yourself, Archie, but I do. And I know what kind of man you are, I know your strength. You will overcome this, as you have overcome so much worse in your life."

"Worse?" said Archie, a touch of bitterness creeping into his voice. "What could possibly be worse than knowing nothing about yourself, about what makes up who you are? I cannot imagine anything worse besetting me."

For the first time, Horatio really stopped and thought about this. He'd not considered that not only did Archie have no memory of himself or any of the men, he had no memory of his entire life. His family would be unknown, his sweethearts forgotten. He would have no recollection of his new life aboard _Indefatigable_, or his old, horrid, wretched existence aboard _Justinian_.

He would have no memory of Jack Simpson.

How long, thought Horatio as he watched Archie look around. How long have I wished for him to be able to forget Simpson, when have I **not** longed to see no shadows of fear behind those brilliant eyes? I would have given anything to take those years back for him, would have done anything if it meant that he would not have been forced to submit to that bastard for so long, but now that it has happened - in a sense, anyway - is it truly what I would wish for him? Is the price not too high?

I don't know, thought Horatio helplessly. I just don't know.

"Come, Archie," he said gently, putting a hand on his friend's arm. "How about I show you to your cabin?" 

Archie nodded and followed him down the passageway, his shoulders still bowed and his head lowered. As they made their way through the ship, though, he began to raise his head. This wouldn't finish him. He had just proven that he still retained knowledge of the ship and how to sail her, still knew how to instruct the men in her care. That was all he needed to do his job. He would learn the names and faces of his crewmates, and he would have the advantage of having no preconceived ideas of who they were or what they were like. And if his memory didn't come back to him, then by God, he'd just move on without it.

Horatio opened the door to his cabin, and stood aside while Archie went inside. As Horatio closed the door behind them, Archie looked around.

It was a tiny space, to be sure, but then that was to be expected. When they cleared for action, it wouldn't be hard to tear down and rebuild, and as only an acting lieutenant, he was fortunate to have his own quarters at all. As Horatio sat on the bed, Archie wandered over to his sea chest and opened the lid. A few shirts, recently cleaned and pressed, lay neatly folded on top, with other articles of clothing beneath. Archie pushed them aside, and found a well-worn leather volume of Shakespeare. He picked it up and leafed through it, and then looked up at Horatio, who was lounging very comfortably on the bed, his back against the bulkhead behind him. Archie felt a little twinge of unease. Hornblower looked very comfortable there, as if he spent a great deal of time in this room. 

"I read Shakespeare?" he said, a little awkwardly. He still didn't know why the two of them seemed to spend so much time together.

Horatio grinned. "Read it? You practically have every word he wrote memorized. You used to drive me mad, quoting him all the time. No matter what the circumstance, you always had some blasted line to spout at me."

"I assume he is not to your taste."

"No, I fear I have never been able to comprehend the attraction. I much prefer the language of mathematics - it's much simpler to understand. You were always the more romantic of the two of us."

"I see," Archie said noncommittally. He leafed back to the inside cover of the book and read the inscription there.

__

To Archie on his fifteenth birthday

With all my love,

Cecily

He looked at Horatio. "Cecily?"

Another smile lit Horatio's face. "Your sister."

"Sister," Archie said slowly. "I had not thought of family." He closed the book and turned his attention back to his sea chest, placing the volume on top of his clothing. The next item was a miniature of a beautiful woman with red-blond hair, and a sweet smile. "Is this her?"

"No," Horatio said. "That is your mother."

Archie felt a stab in his heart. He could not even recognize the woman who had given him life? He stared at the picture, trying to feel something - anything- but his mind and heart were empty. 

"Dammit," he said softly, dropping the picture back into the sea chest and closing the lid. "I don't even know my own mother."

Horatio rose to his feet and stood beside Archie, placing a hand on his shoulder. Archie tensed at the unfamiliar contact, and Horatio dropped his hand to his side. He must remember that Archie was unaware of their friendship, that he simply thought of Horatio as his shipmate. He must be careful not to push him too much.

"In fact, you didn't really ever know her," he said quietly. "She died when you were very young."

Archie sighed. So much lost. "Is Cecily my only sibling?"  


Dangerous territory, thought Horatio. Archie and his family had been estranged for many a year now, and it had been a long time before he had even been able to speak to Horatio about them. It was only when they were confined in the dingy prison of El Ferrol, locked together for so long, that he had finally begun to speak of them. Never had Archie's father even attempted to find out if his son was still alive after disappearing during the _Papillion_ raid. Archie had tried to see his father upon his return to England, but had been summarily dismissed after a brief meeting with the family. They'd not spoken since.

"No," he said, deciding he would not hide this part of Archie's life from him. "You have two older brothers, and your father."

"Brothers," said Archie. "Are we near in age?"

"No, they are both much older than you. Cecily was four years older."

"Was?"

Horatio nodded. "Yes. I'm sorry, Archie. She died the day after she gave you that book. It was a riding accident."

"And my brothers?"

"They are both alive and well. Andrew, the eldest, helps to manage your father's estate, and Basil is a barrister in London."

"My father's estate? It is a wealthy family?"

Sighing, Horatio sat back down. "Archie, I am not sure this is a conversation we should have yet."

"Why not?"

Dammit, thought Horatio. He always has to push. "Because you are not close to your family. You and your father did not get along, and your brothers were not kind to you. You were closest to Cecily, and it was very difficult for you when she died, at least from what you have told me. You loved her very much."

"Why was I not close to the others of my family? Is there something wrong with me?"

Horatio felt a tiny stab of panic. He would **not** tell Archie of his fits, or the hatred and torment by his brothers. And he certainly would not tell him that his father hated him because of those fits, and because he had found out about Jack Simpson. Lord Kennedy had been all too willing to believe that Archie had been a willing participant in Jack's evil games, and Horatio would never forgive the man for that.

"The problem was not with you, Archie. It was, and is, with them. They simply have nothing in common with you, and you are better for having them out of your life."

"Am I?" Archie said, a note of sadness coloring his tone as he lowered his eyes to the deck beneath his feet. "Am I better for being all alone?"

"You're not alone," Horatio said firmly. "The crew of the _Indy_ is your family. You are one of us, and it is here that you belong." He rose again to his feet. "Come, Archie. I think it is time we left this behind for now, and found you something to eat. Will you come with me?"

Archie raised his eyes to meet Horatio's. "As you wish, Mr. Hornblower. But will you tell me one more thing?"

"If I am able."

"Is shipboard food any good? I'm starving."

"Oh, Mr. Kennedy," Horatio said sadly, shaking his head. "I fear that you are in for an unpleasant surprise."


	5. Chapter Five

****

Chapter Five

"Mr. Hornblower."

Horatio turned from his study of the mast repairs. "Yes, Mr. Masters?"

"The captain would like to see you in his cabin, sir."

"Thank you, Mr. Masters," Horatio said, giving one final inspection to the mast. "Good job, men. Matthews, I'd like to see that rigging untied and secured better."

"Aye, aye, sir," said Matthews, motioning to Styles and Oldroyd. "You heard the lieutenant, men. Let's get to it."

Horatio left the deck and headed below, wondering what the captain wanted with him. They were now but two days from Portsmouth, the _Indy_ still limping along. Most of the repairs that they could do had been finished, but they would need more extensive work done when they reached England. It was amazing what damage that tiny French ship had inflicted upon the sturdy frigate.

He nodded to the marine outside Pellew's door, then knocked.

"Come," barked the captain.

Horatio entered the spacious cabin, and closed the door behind him. Removing his hat and holding it under his arm, he addressed his captain.

"You wished to see me, sir?"

For a moment, Pellew remained silent. He was standing with his back to Horatio, looking out the skylight, the warm sun glinting off the gold braid on the cuffs and the buttons of his uniform. He was very aware of the young man behind him, but did not turn to address him. This was going to be a difficult interview for the both of them, and if he was to be honest with himself, he was dreading it enormously.

"Yes, I did, Mr. Hornblower," he said, and then fell silent again.

Horatio waited for a few minutes, discomfort growing within him. Finally, he spoke, not knowing what else to do.

"Is there something I may do for you, sir?"

Pellew's head dipped for a moment as he gathered his thoughts, and then he raised it back up as he turned to face the young lieutenant before him.

"You may tell me how Mr. Kennedy is doing."

"Well, sir, he is physically fine. Even his headaches have dissipated for the most part."

"And his memory?"

"His memory is returning, sir."

"Is it?" Pellew asked sharply. "That is not what the doctor tells me. He tells me Mr. Kennedy still does not remember his past."

"With all due respect sir, if you had already had a report from the doctor, why ask me? He is surely more knowledgeable than I." 

Pellew glared at him. "Why must you always be so defensive, Mr. Hornblower? I asked your opinion because you are the man closest to him in all the world, and I thought you might have some insight into his progress."

Humiliated, Horatio lowered his eyes. "I beg your pardon, sir. You are correct, of course - I do know Mr. Kennedy better than anyone else. We have served together for quite some time."

"Yes," Pellew nodded, his face softening. "I know you two have shared much in your time together, and I know that Mr. Kennedy trusts you more than anyone else. Is that trust still intact?"

Horatio sighed. Five days had passed since his discussion with Archie in his cabin, and Archie still showed no inkling of remembering his past. He was making a determined effort to not let it bother him, and Horatio was encouraged by his positive attitude. Still, it was a far cry from a complete recovery.

"I believe we are working on that, sir. I have faith that Mr. Kennedy will have a complete recovery, and I am doing all I can to help him regain his memory."

"And how are you doing that?" Pellew asked curiously.

Horatio shrugged slightly. "The only way I can think of, sir. I spend as much time as I am able with him, talking to him about things we have shared, experiences that have shaped our friendship."

"And does he recall any of these experiences?"

Horatio dropped his head, studying the planking beneath his feet. "No, sir," he said quietly. "Not yet."

Pellew heaved a sigh. There was no sense in putting this off any longer, no need to prolong the agony.

"I am sorry to hear that, Mr. Hornblower. I had hoped that there would be some improvement by this time, but since there is not, I must take action. When we reach Portsmouth, I'm afraid Mr. Kennedy must go ashore, and remain there."

Horatio was shocked. "Leave the _Indy_, sir? Why?"

"I should think that answer to be self-evident, lieutenant. He is of no use to this ship."

"Sir, please. You cannot put him ashore such as he is. Where would he go? He has no family to turn to, he knows no life but the sea - how could he possibly regain his memory without people who know him, who...care...for him?"

"Mr. Hornblower, I cannot in all good conscience allow Mr. Kennedy to perform his duties aboard ship. What if he should forget something essential, causing injury to a crewmate, or damage to _Indefatigable_? That is not a risk I wish to take."

"With all due respect, sir, Mr. Kennedy has, by all evidence, forgotten none of his skills. The only memories he cannot recall are those of people and events from his past. I beg of you, sir, let him remain on duty. I truly believe it will help to jar his memory."

"And are you a doctor now, Mr. Hornblower?" Pellew said sharply.

"No, sir," Horatio replied firmly. "But it is also the belief of Dr. Hepplewhite. I do understand your reluctance, sir, and I may have a way to appease it."

"And that is?"

"Test him, sir," Horatio said fervently. "Have Mr. Bowles test him more thoroughly than he will be tested at his lieutenant's exam. Ask him anything about the ship, ask him when to tack, and what to do when a squall hits, or drill him on the procedure of beating to quarters. He knows it, captain. You must give him this chance."

"Oh I must, must I?" growled Pellew, uncertain whether he was angry with this impudent young man for challenging his decision, or whether he was proud of him for suggesting it, for wanting to protect and aid his friend in his troubles. "Are you now giving me orders, Mr. Hornblower?"

Flushing, Horatio nonetheless met his captain's eyes. "No, sir. I am just thinking of the good of the ship, sir."

"The good of the ship? How do you reach that conclusion?"  


"You yourself said, sir, that the loss of one of your officers right now while _Indefatigable_ is damaged would be most inconvenient. I agree with you."

"Of course you do," harrumphed Pellew. "He is your friend, and you wish him to stay aboard with you."

Horatio squared his shoulders and looked directly at Pellew. "I'll not deny that, sir. But I also remember another conversation we had in this cabin regarding Mr. Kennedy and his future. I hope that you recall it as well."

Silent for a moment, Pellew thought back to that conversation. Hornblower and his men had recently been released from imprisonment in El Ferrol, and Pellew had sought out Horatio's advice on the promotion of Archie to acting lieutenant. Normally, he would never solicit advice from such a junior officer, but this was a unique case. Technically, there were other midshipmen aboard who had not been locked in prisons for the previous two years, men who were very capable and confident. But Pellew, months before, had made the decision. He had made it the instant Archie had volunteered to return to El Ferrol with his commanding officer, despite the abuse he had suffered there. It had been a huge step forward for the young midshipman, and Pellew had wanted to reward his loyalty. However, he had heard rumors of how Kennedy had been thrown into the oubliette for an entire month, emerging without the use of his legs or his mind, had heard talk of how he had tried to take his own life, and the captain had wanted to be certain that Archie was fit to undertake the new responsibilities of acting lieutenant. Horatio had assured him that Archie was ready, that he was healed, and ready to command.

Smiling slightly, Pellew inclined his head. "I do indeed remember it, Mr. Hornblower. You presented a very compelling argument then. Something about the strength and heart within Mr. Kennedy being equal to ten men."

Once again flushing, Horatio nodded. "Yes, I do believe it went something like that, sir. Perhaps I exaggerated slightly, but the idea is still the same. Mr. Kennedy belongs aboard the _Indy_, sir, and she needs him. His expertise and especially his knowledge of her guns will certainly be well used. Should we come under attack, you have always in the past wanted him at her guns for that reason. I beg you not to turn him off, sir."

Pellew sighed and again turned to look out the skylight. He wanted to take Hornblower's suggestion, for he very much wanted to keep Kennedy aboard his ship. Before his accident, the lad had shown great promise as an officer, and Pellew was loathe to lose him just as he was getting started. He thought for a few moments, weighing the options carefully in his mind. Finally, with a slight nod, he turned to face Hornblower.

"Very well, Mr. Hornblower. I shall take your advice. Mr. Kennedy will be tested."

"Thank you, sir," Horatio said, a smile lighting his face. "You will not be disappointed, sir, I promise."

"Then I shall hold you to that promise, sir. However, there will be one stipulation."

"Sir?"

"Mr. Bowles will not test Mr. Kennedy. I shall do it myself. And believe me when I say, Mr. Hornblower, that there will be no quarter given, no second chance at this exam. If he cannot satisfy me that he knows all there is to know about sailing this ship, he **will** be set ashore, and his career will be finished. Am I clear on this?"

"Absolutely, sir," Horatio replied. "And thank you. You will not be disappointed."

"Pray I am not, Mr. Hornblower. Pray I am not."

**********

"Archie, this is a wonderful opportunity for you."

The two men were sitting at the table in the officer's wardroom, where Horatio had just told Archie of the captain's plan to test him on the care and running of the ship. It was midmorning, and Archie was half-heartedly picking at the bowl of burgoo before him.

Archie glanced up at him. "You know, Mr. Hornblower, I'm not so sure I want to remain aboard ship."

Horatio laced his hands together atop the table. "Whyever not, Archie?"

"Have you **eaten** any of this stuff? It's bloody awful."

Horatio laughed. "I told you that you would not enjoy shipboard food."

"Well, you didn't tell me how completely inedible it was," Archie grumbled. "How does the Admiralty expect us to keep up our strength if we are subjected to slop such as this?" He sighed, and placed the spoon in the bowl, shoving it aside as he looked across at Horatio. "The captain himself is going to test me?"

"Yes," nodded Horatio. "Does that bother you?"

"Should it?" Archie asked, a puzzled look on his face. 

"Well, you've always been a little bit...intimidated...by the captain." Instantly, Horatio wanted to kick himself. Of course Archie wouldn't remember that, and now Horatio had placed the idea in his head - that couldn't be good.

"Honestly?" Archie sounded puzzled. "Why is that?"

Damn, damn, **damn**, thought Horatio. Why do I never know when to cease speaking? "Truth be told, we all are, I think. He is the captain, after all, and may issue any sort of punishment he desires."

Archie frowned. "He favors the cat, then?"

"Not usually," said Horatio, shaking his head. "He much prefers other methods of enforcing order, but he will not hesitate to order a flogging if he thinks it necessary or called for. He did flog one of the midshipmen last week for insubordination, and another three weeks ago for leaving his post."

Archie looked curiously at him. "Have you ever been flogged?"

"Heavens, Archie, of course not. Why would you ask such a thing?"

"I should have known," sighed Archie. "I see I have you figured correctly, then."

Leaning back, Horatio warily regarded his friend. "Oh, you have me all figured out, do you? You know me so well already?"

"It's not difficult," said Archie, shrugging. "You follow orders. The captain favors you."

"I would not say that, exactly..."

"You may not, but others would. I have heard talk, Mr. Hornblower."

"And what kind of talk is that, Archie?"

"Just gossip from the men whilst I have been on deck. It seems you can do no wrong in our captain's eyes."

"Even if that were true, Archie, it does not mean he does not hold you in high regard, also. After all, he **did** promote you to acting lieutenant, and he is willing to give you this chance to prove yourself before him. I know of no one else he has ever offered that particular opportunity to."

"I'll wager he has never had the need to," answered Archie dryly. "Well, perhaps it is a good thing I have no memory of him, for it also means I have no fear of him."

"He is a fine captain, Archie."

"I'm certain sure he is, Mr. Hornblower. The men speak very highly of him."

"And how about your men? Have you spent any time with them, talked to them at all? Do you remember any of them?"

"Yes and no," Archie said slowly. "Yes, I have spent time with them, and no, I do not remember anything about them. It does appear, however, that Misters Malley and Fuller do not care for me one bit."

Horatio snorted. "I'd not worry about that, Archie. They do not care for any officers."

"Yes, I got that impression. Malley certainly does not care any more for you than he does for me. He will be a hard man to win over."

"I do wish you luck in that endeavour, Archie. If anyone can do it, you can."

His eyebrow arched, Archie looked across the table at him. "And what does that mean, exactly?"

Horatio smiled widely. "Only that the Archie Kennedy I know is capable of charming the fins off of a mermaid. Perhaps it will work with Malley and Fuller."

"Do that often, do I?"

"What?" asked Horatio, confused.

"Charm the fins off mermaids."

Horatio grinned at him. "We've never actually met a mermaid, but I imagine you would have no problem doing it."

"Hmm," Archie mused. "That would be an interesting challenge. Well, I assume I at least have better luck charming the petticoats off of young ladies whilst on shore leave."

"Archie!" Horatio exclaimed, blushing.

"Have I embarrassed you, Mr. Hornblower?" Archie teased, watching Horatio's face turn another couple shades of red. "Don't tell me you don't like young ladies."

"Of course I do," sputtered Horatio. "I just do not care to discuss them in that manner."

"That manner?" Archie laughed. "For heaven's sake, Mr. Hornblower, you **are** a sailor, are you not? Does it not come with the territory?"

"No, it does not," said Horatio firmly, rising from the bench.

Archie sat back, his blue eyes sparkling with mirth. "Well, it does for me. I fully intend to take advantage of it when we finally reach Portsmouth, just as soon as I am given the opportunity. Will you not join me?"

Horatio was saved by the sounding of the watch. "If you will excuse me, Archie, I am due on deck. Finish your breakfast, why don't you?"

Archie turned his eyes back to the bowl of burgoo, his good humor instantly evaporating. "Oh, thank you, Mr. Hornblower. I thought we were friends."

"But we are, sir, the very best. I am merely thinking of your good health. You must not be in a weakened state when the captain begins to test you - you must have your wits fully about you, or he will know it. Trust me on this, Archie."

Archie's eyes met Horatio's. "I am not worried, Mr. Hornblower. I feel as if I know this ship from stem to stern and back again, better than I know myself." His voice trailed off, and he dropped his glance to the table. "Then again, I suppose I know just about anything better than I know myself."

Horatio walked around the table, and placed his hand on Archie's shoulder. "Do not fear, Archie. You **do** know _Indefatigable_, and you know how to sail her, and that is what is important right now. The rest will come. Trust me."

Archie looked back up at him. "You seem to say that to me a lot."

"You've always trusted me in the past, Archie. Please do not stop now."

A small smile tugged at the corners of Archie's mouth. "I think I do trust you, sir. And I must say, it is a...pleasant...feeling."

"I am glad to hear that, Mr. Kennedy." Horatio removed his hand from Archie's shoulder and moved to the door. Stopping in the doorway, he looked back at his friend.

"Finish your breakfast, Mr. Kennedy. Consider that an order."

Archie's glare could have set fire to the ship, but Horatio only laughed as he left. It felt right between them again, easy and comfortable. It was interesting, he thought, how we can be friends even without all the shared experiences, even if Archie can't remember all we have been through together. There are those who would say it is fate or destiny, but I prefer to think that our ties can never be severed, that we will always be friends, no matter what life throws at us. With that thought, Horatio returned to his duty, encouraged that Archie was doing better.

****


	6. Chapter Six

****

Chapter Six

A warm breeze gently tugged at the sails of _Indefatigable_ as she plowed through the sea, trailing a wake of clear water behind her. The sun, already brilliant in the azure sky, painted rainbows on the waves beneath her, while white cotton clouds were mimicked by the soft white crests of the ocean. A perfect, flawless day, thought Captain Pellew as he arrived topside. Perhaps it is a good omen.

He stood on his quarterdeck, observing the men as they went about their duties. They were a fine crew, the best in the fleet in his opinion, and he was very proud of them. Oh, there were a few he would like to heave overboard, especially those ruffians Malley and Fuller, but overall, they were hard working and honest. The best of the best. His eyes sought out young Kennedy, who was at the moment inspecting the starboard carronade's moorings, and he remained still as he watched the lad. Though he would admit it to no one, he had been thrilled at Hornblower's suggestion that Archie be tested as to his shipboard knowledge, that there was a way of keeping the lad aboard the _Indy_. Despite the rest of the debacle at Muzillac, he had been encouraged by one thing - a report he had heard of Kennedy's heroic dash across the bridge to rescue his officer. That was the kind of man the Navy needed, and Pellew had been pleasantly surprised that it had been Kennedy who had acted in such a manner. It had only been a matter of months ago that they had finally left that wretched place, and he had continued to watch his new acting lieutenant closely. Archie had not disappointed him. Although he was not the natural leader and seaman that Hornblower was, he still shone with a great deal of promise. If that promise were to be lost, it would be a damn shame, thought Pellew, not for the first time. And now it was time to find out.

"Mr. Kennedy," he called, and Archie looked up from the gun, then made his way across the deck, stopping in front of Pellew.

"Aye, sir?" he said, tendering a smart salute.

"It is time for your examination, sir. Are you ready?"

"Indeed I am, sir," said Archie, and Pellew was taken slightly aback by the sound of pure confidence in his voice. This was not the sometimes-tentative midshipman he had known.

"Very well. We shall begin with a reading of the signals. Mr. Bowles, if you will present the flags to Mr. Kennedy."

Bowles nodded, and Archie's testing began. Beginning aft, he was asked to identify every little item they came across, and had to give a complete description of the function of each line and every piece of equipment. The captain was merciless in his questioning, allowing very little time for Archie to formulate his answer.

For his part, Archie didn't need time. The answers flowed from him, and he could feel his confidence growing with every response. Not once did he falter. A feeling of calm settled over him as they went along. It didn't matter if he didn't know his past - he knew his ship, and that was all that was necessary for him to be a member of her crew. The dons and the frogs would not care about his previous life, but they **would** care if he knew how to properly fire a gun at them.

Horatio, though not on watch, still found a reason to be up on deck for Archie's exam, thinking that maybe if his friend had problems, he would somehow be able to encourage him, without the captain noticing. However, it was appearing that Archie needed help from no one, for he was doing quite well on his own. Horatio caught the eye of Lieutenant Bracegirdle - who had also managed to find some reason to be up on deck at this time - across the deck, and they both grinned at each other. Archie was doing splendidly.

"So, Mr. Kennedy," the captain said. "Suppose you were to carry away your bowsprit, what would you do?"

Archie's voice carried clearly to Horatio as he answered. "First, I would immediately veer ship to keep her before the wind, and to protect the fore-mast, I would carry forward the fore-runners and tackles, and bowse them well taut, until I can get sufficient rope or a hawser, and then I would tighten it round the mast-head, and secure it to the bits of the forecastle or the cat-heads. After that, I would find the best spar on board, and rig up a bowsprit from that."

Pellew nodded, pleased at the answer. Succinct, to the point, and absolutely correct. Of course, any midshipman with experience would know that, but it was encouraging that it appeared Kennedy had no hesitation in forming his answer. A good lieutenant must be able to think on his feet, no matter what was going on around him, no matter how crazy things got on deck.

"Well done, sir. Now, you are going large and see a ship in the wind's eye - how will you proceed to chase her?"

Archie grinned. "Chasing her is what it's all about, sir." He caught Horatio's eye across the deck and winked at him. Horatio colored slightly, realizing that Archie was not really talking about the enemy ship, but was instead referring to their earlier conversation about mermaids and young ladies and their petticoats. He frowned back at his friend, but Archie had turned back to Pellew to give his answer.

"I will turn all hands up, get my tacks on board, brace up my yards and haul aft the sheets; haul the bow-lines, set the jib and stay-sails, keep her full, and by making short boards and turn directly to windward, which will prevent her putting away large. After that, sir, she is mine."

"So certain are you, Mr. Kennedy," said Pellew dryly. "She'll not give up without a fight, you realize."

"No, sir," said Archie. "But we all know that there is no power on earth that can withstand the might of the British Navy."

Pellew was slightly taken aback. He'd used those words himself once upon a time, and if he remembered correctly, it had been the day Kennedy came aboard _Indefatigable_. Did the boy remember that, or was it merely a coincidence? He studied Archie, but the lad merely looked back at him with calm assurance, and no hint that he'd remembered the previous time he had heard that particular phrase, and Pellew thought disappointedly that it was not an indication of his memory returning. Clasping his hands behind his back, he began to walk forward. Archie followed him.

"And now, sir, you are standing on a wind with all your sails set; your enemy is in sight, standing towards you, how do you clear your ship for action?"

"I will call all hands to quarters, up hammocks, the quartermasters to stow them in the netting, and on the gang-way; get the topmen's hammocks up in the top; down all chests in the hold; quartermasters stow them; take it in all the small sails; sling the lower yard with top-chains, then sling the top-sail yards half mast or close up; stopper the top-sail sheets, stoppers on the jeers, or else rack them; gunners get the match-tubs between every two guns, matches, powder-horns, and handspikes, sufficient for every gun; all hands to quarters, keep silence and mind the word of command, fire not a gun until the word of command is given. Now I have all the three masts in one, so the order is given to fire." 

Again Pellew nodded. "Very good, Mr. Kennedy. Shall we now proceed to the lines?"

Horatio watched as the two men moved off, and he allowed himself a small smile. He was well pleased with how well Archie was doing, and he had no doubt that the captain was, too. Archie was completely at ease. Realizing that his friend did not need him lurking around, he went below.

Afternoon fell to evening, and still the captain continued his questioning. Neither man showed any signs of weariness - in fact, Archie appeared energized by the whole affair. Mr. Bowles left the two of them to go have dinner, but Archie and the captain continued on, the captain now presenting varying seagoing scenarios and dilemmas to Archie, and Archie responding with enthusiasm, explaining what he would do in each situation, and why he would do it. Horatio, who had long ago retired belowdecks to rest, was surprised to see them still at it when he appeared for his watch.

The captain noticed Horatio standing there, and a surprised look appeared on his face. He glanced up at the sun, then pulled his pocket watch out and studied it. He said something to Archie, who nodded, threw him a salute, and disappeared belowdecks. Horatio moved to meet the captain.

"Good evening, sir," he said.

"And to you, Mr. Hornblower," answered the captain. "I did not know it was so late. It appears time has gotten away from me this afternoon."

"Mr. Kennedy's exam is going well, then, sir?"

A small grin touched Pellew's lips. "It is indeed, Mr. Hornblower. I must thank you for suggesting the idea."

Horatio inclined his head, pleased at the acknowledgement. "It was for the good of the ship, sir."

"Yes, of course," said Pellew dryly. "But it is not yet over."

"No, sir?" said Horatio, surprised.

"No, indeed," responded the captain. "Mr. Kennedy has gone below to wash for dinner, and he and I will continue this testing over dinner in my cabin. Tomorrow, we shall begin on the guns."

"Aye, sir," said Horatio slowly, and Pellew left his side to retire to his cabin for dinner. Horatio stood, his gaze fixed on the railing beside him, not even noticing Lieutenant Bracegirdle appearing beside him.

"It seems to be going well," said Bracegirdle easily, and Horatio started a bit, and then returned to his contemplation of the railing.

"Yes, sir, it does."

Bracegirdle fought back a small smile. He knew what was going on in Hornblower's mind at this moment, and he couldn't resist a little prod.

"So," he said, "the captain has invited Mr. Kennedy for a private dinner. That is a rarity."

"Indeed it is, sir," Horatio answered, still staring at the railing.

"It's usually only for a very special occasion," Bracegirdle continued on, twisting the knife just a little. "He must be quite pleased with Mr. Kennedy's progress."

"Yes, I'm certain he is," Horatio answered, his voice empty.

Bracegirdle fought back another smile, and looked directly at Horatio. "I don't seem to remember **you** ever being invited to the captain's quarters for a private meal."

"No," Horatio said mournfully, then caught himself and returned Bracegirdle's look. "It is simply because the captain wishes to continue quizzing Mr. Kennedy."

"Oh," said Bracegirdle, feigning surprise. "Then you do not think Mr. Kennedy worthy of the captain's attention."

"I did not **say** that," Horatio responded quickly. "That is not at all what I meant."

"What did you mean, then?"

"I meant nothing, sir. Only that the exam seemed to be going so well that they simply wished to continue it over dinner."

"Ah," said Bracegirdle knowingly. "Then you are **not** jealous of the captain's attention to Mr. Kennedy?"

"Indeed I am not, sir," Horatio said resentfully. "I am pleased for Mr. Kennedy."

Bracegirdle laughed aloud at the look on Horatio's face, and the junior officer flushed. Oh why did he never know when someone was jesting with him? It was infuriating, never knowing when they were serious and when they weren't. Archie and Lieutenant Bracegirdle were the absolute worst culprits, though Archie had not been so much since he had lost his memory. At least **one** good thing came out of this whole mess, Horatio thought blackly. Archie is not yet comfortable enough with me to tease and torment me. Maybe it's best if he never recovers his memory.

**********

Archie's exam continued the next morning, and all through the day. Horatio was disappointed that he had not been able to talk to his friend the previous evening, but it had been very late when Archie returned to his quarters, and he had immediately doused his light, so Horatio, who had been waiting for his return, assumed the day had finally caught up with Archie and he needed his rest, so he had blown out his own candle and gone to sleep.

"Good morning, Mr. Hornblower," Archie greeted him with a huge smile as Horatio came above decks. "Did you rest well, sir?"

Horatio had to smile at Archie's infectious grin. "Not as well as you, apparently, Mr. Kennedy. You seem to be in a fine mood this morning."

"Oh, I believe I am," Archie answered. "Ah, Mr. Hornblower, it went so well yesterday with my examination. The captain told me over dinner that he was very pleased with what had transpired during the day, and he has every confidence that I will be allowed to stay aboard the _Indy_."

"And is that truly what you want, Mr. Kennedy?" Horatio asked, trying hard to keep the pettiness from his tone. What was going on with him? Was he honestly jealous of Archie, as Lieutenant Bracegirdle had jokingly suggested? Did he resent the captain's special attention to him?

"Of course it is," Archie responded, puzzled. "Have I ever said anything else?"

"Yes, you have," Horatio replied. "Something about the quality of the food."

"Oh, that," laughed Archie. "Surely you know I was jesting, even though that white fluff **was** quite awful. But the meal we had last night, Mr. Hornblower! Beef so tender you scarce needed a knife to carve it. It was amazing."

Well, thought Horatio peevishly. Archie and the captain dine on fine beef, while we have mutton and rum. Why is this image of Bunting now in my head? Oh, for heavens' sake, that's enough, he admonished himself sternly. The captain has released food from the stores, because we are returning home much sooner than expected, and as captain, he is certainly entitled to the best of it. What is wrong with me?

"And if the captain is pleased with how I do today, when he tests me on the guns and belowdecks, and he puts forth several navigational problems, then he has promised that we will celebrate with another fine meal, and the best port he has aboard." Archie could barely contain the excitement in his voice.

"So. The testing will be done today, then?" Horatio said, pushing his thoughts away from the image of Archie and the captain alone in the cabin, toasting to the king. 

"If all goes well," Archie answered. "And I have no reason to think it will not."

Horatio smiled at him, all feeling of jealousy fading away. This was his best friend here, and he really **was** pleased that things were going so well for him. Archie had had enough bad breaks in his life - he deserved a few good ones.

"I am very happy for you, Archie," he said, lowering his voice so the men would not hear the familiarity. "I am pleased that we will still be able to serve together, that the _Indy_ shall not lose one of her finest."

"As am I, Mr. Hornblower," Archie said, grinning at him. "I find that I have come to enjoy your company immensely."

Touched, Horatio could only nod for a moment. "I am glad to hear that, Mr. Kennedy. If I may, I have a suggestion."

"Suggest away," Archie said breezily. "I feel on top of the world right now."

"I thought, that once we reach Portsmouth, we could perhaps go ashore together, and I could reintroduce you to places that are familiar to you, places we have been to together. Perhaps it will help you to remember more."

"A fine idea, Mr. Hornblower," Archie said with gusto. "I imagine that _Indefatigable_ will have to remain there for at least a week while repairs are being done, so we should both be able to take shore leave at the same time. I look forward to it."

"As do I, Mr. Kennedy," Horatio said warmly. "We have spent many a shore leave together there - certainly something will be familiar to you. We shall stay at the inn we always do, and dine in the same places, and visit that blasted bookshop you are so enamored of."

"Bookshop? Is there not some other place we go to have fun? Perhaps meet some fine young ladies for entertainment?"

Horatio blushed. "I thought the bookshop would be best. You really do have a voracious appetite for reading, Mr. Kennedy."

"Hmm," grumbled Archie. "I have a voracious appetite for something, all right, but it certainly does not involve books!"

Horatio looked askance at his friend. Archie was no innocent, certainly, but he rarely sought out the 'companionship' of women while ashore, for the encounters often brought back unhappy memories of his abuse at the hands of Jack Simpson. Horatio never visited any of the ladies, either, being much too shy and awkward around the female of the species, so the two of them had often spent all of their time ashore together. It had always been enough for the two of them, and Horatio felt a pang of sadness that it appeared it was no longer so for Archie.

"Mr. Kennedy," came Captain Pellew's voice from behind them. Both men straightened up and turned to face their captain, just arrived on deck.

"Captain Pellew, sir," Archie said easily. Horatio nodded.

"Good morning, gentlemen," said Pellew in a businesslike tone. "I trust you are ready for your examination to begin, Mr. Kennedy?"

"Aye, sir," answered Archie, his whole being radiating confidence. "Whenever you are, captain."

"Very well, we shall begin with a series of navigational questions that Mr. Bowles and I have prepared. Shall we?" He gestured forward, and Archie nodded and turned to go, after flashing Horatio a quick smile.

"Mr. Kennedy," Horatio couldn't resist. "Please be certain you do not send our ship to central Africa. The sources of the Nile have already been discovered." His grin at his own joke faded as both men looked at him blankly, and his face colored. This was why he never told a joke. He simply did not have the capability to do it correctly.

"Yes, of course, Mr. Hornblower," Archie responded, looking at him curiously. "I shall keep that in mind." He and Pellew exchanged puzzled glances, then left Horatio standing there, his face blazing with embarrassment. Good god. Pellew hadn't been there when that exchange had taken place, and Archie didn't remember anything about _Justinian_. How did he manage to keep humiliating himself in front of his captain? Shaking his head, Horatio turned his attention back to the deck. It was best that he stick to something he **was** good at - sailing - and leave the joke-telling to those who could actually do it. 

*****

__

Archie's answers to Captain Pellew's questions are taken from "Examination of a young officer_, _The New Practical Navigator"_ (1814)_

**** **** ****


	7. Chapter Seven

****

Chapter Seven

Portsmouth at the end of a sunny day, thought Archie as he and Horatio wound their way through the streets, was a fine thing to behold. _Indefatigable_ was one of more than a dozen ships in port, and the streets were full of sailors, laughing and drinking and chasing women. Archie was thoroughly enjoying the atmosphere around the two of them as he followed Horatio into a small shop. Stopping before he entered, he looked up at the sign above the shop. Griffith's Bookshop, it spelled out in green letters on a creamy ivory background, with an open book on either side. Proprietor James B. Griffith.

A bell rang softly as they entered. Their shoes left prints in the fine layer of dust on the wooden floor, and Archie sneezed slightly as they made their way inside, for dust lay everywhere, coating books and tables alike.

"Good god," he mumbled to Horatio. "Can you imagine if the _Indy_ was this dusty? Captain Pellew would have our heads!"

Horatio shot him a glance. "You've never minded it before, Archie."

Sighing, Archie looked around him, taking in the stacks of books piled seemingly haphazardly everywhere the eye could see. "Well, maybe not. But I should have."

"Lieutenant Hornblower! Mr. Kennedy!"

Archie and Horatio turned as they were greeted by a small, gnome-like man scurrying through the stacks of books. Bald on top, he had long, stringy hair hanging down to his shoulders, and a pair of filthy spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose. Watery blue eyes peered delightedly at the two men.

"Good day, Mr. Griffith," Horatio said with a warm smile. "And how are you this day?"

"Delighted, Mr. Hornblower, absolutely delighted to see the two of you again. Why, it's been months! If I remember, you were here to buy Mr. Kennedy a present, as he had just been made acting-lieutenant." He turned to Archie. "Did you enjoy the book of poetry, Mr. Kennedy?"

"Poetry," Archie said slowly, stealing a glance at Horatio. "You bought me a book of poetry."

"Yes, I did, Archie, don't you remember?" Horatio hurried to answer. "It was by one of your favorite poets - Scott, was it?"

"Er, yes, that was it. Wonderful book. Thank you, Mr. Hornblower." The two men had decided they would be careful about revealing anything of Archie's memory loss to just anyone they happened to run into, so as not to create problems or confusion.

"I knew you would like it," Horatio said smugly. "Cost me quite a bit, you know."

"Oh, Mr. Hornblower, I have just the thing for you," said Griffith eagerly in his squeaky little voice. "Come, come, you must see it!" He took Horatio's arm, and Archie slowly followed them across the crowded room. "Look here. It's the very newest edition, just published. A merchant brought it over from America." He picked up a book from beneath the counter, holding it reverently in his hands as he passed it to Horatio.

Horatio ran his hand along the fine lettering on the cover. "Moore's Practical Navigator, amended and corrected by Nathaniel Bowditch," he said with awe. "I'd heard tell of this, of his work, but I didn't know it would be available here in England."

Archie groaned quietly as Horatio buried his nose in the book. Good god. They were wasting the rest of the beautiful day trapped in a dusty old bookseller's shop. This was not the way he wanted to spend his shore leave.

"Ah, and Mr. Kennedy," said Griffith knowingly. "I have just the thing for you. Newly arrived edition." He scurried into the interior of the store, disappearing between the stacks. Archie sighed and turned around, surveying the shop. Cluttered, he thought as he brushed dust from the jacket of his uniform. Books are so expensive - I wonder if he sells enough to live.

"Here we are!" exclaimed Griffith, popping up suddenly under Archie's nose. Archie jumped.

"Good god, sir, give a man some warning!"

"Sorry, sorry," the man said, brandishing a book in front of Archie. "Here it is, Mr. Kennedy. Henry IV. One of your favorites, is it not? A truly beautiful edition, don't you agree?"

Archie took the book and leafed through it. "Yes, sir, I'm quite certain it is. Very fine." He glanced over at Horatio, who was perched precariously on a stack of books that threatened to fall over at any moment, a look of pure bliss on his face.

"I thought so," said Griffith with satisfaction. "I know you like Hamlet the best, but this is a wonderful play, also. Such characters! Prince Hal is a wonder to behold!" He peered at Archie. "I've often envisioned you playing him, as well as Hamlet."

Horatio drew himself from his enraptured reading for just a moment. "Oh, Mr. Griffith, please do not mention Hamlet to him. He will go on forever: 'Oh, good Horatio, what a wounded name.' Or 'I am dead, Horatio.' You should see him drape himself ever-so-dramatically over his bed as he utters that line. Or the one I like the least; 'there are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy' - I truly despise that one. He uses it on me constantly."

"Huh," snorted Archie. "I could certainly use it right now."

Griffith bounced down another aisle, muttering to himself as he peered over the top of his spectacles. "Anything in particular you want to see, Mr. Kennedy? I've dozens of new pirate stories. Ladies are fascinated with those, for some reason. Can't understand it in the... Oh, here's a nice little romance, or maybe one of these books that just came in from America..."

"Thank you, Mr. Griffith," Archie broke in, walking over to stand next to Horatio. "But I am afraid that Mr. Hornblower and I shall have to return another day. We have business we must attend to."

"Hmm?" said Horatio distractedly. "Business?"

"Yes, business," Archie said with a meaningful glance. "You remember. The fact-finding mission we are on?"

"Oh, yes, of course," said Horatio, rising to his feet. A sorrowful look on his face, he reluctantly handed the volume back to Griffith. His feet dragging a bit, he started to follow after Archie as they exited the shop.

"Oh, for mercy's sake, Mr. Hornblower," said an exasperated Archie. "You don't want that blasted book anyway. It's full of errors."

"How can you say that, Archie? Bowditch is a navigational genius! He's corrected scores of errors in Moore's original book."

"And missed scores of others, or at least so I understand. Perhaps someday he'll publish his own book on navigation, and you can sit around in dusty shops and read that one." Archie turned and made his way down the darkening street, Horatio, with his long legs, easily catching up to him.

"I'll wager he will write his own, Archie," Horatio said firmly. "The man's methods of celestial navigation are extraordinary, and he'll be famous the world over. You mark my words."

"Hmm," said Archie as he looked around. "Yes, perhaps. For an American, he has potential. Ah," he said, a smile brightening his face. "Now that is more like it."

Just down the street from them was a pub - The Smiling Mermaid, Horatio noted with dismay. Laughter, light and music flowed out the open door and into the street, followed shortly by a sailor being thrown out on his arse. The drunken man landed in the street, howling obscenities at the men inside, but then he rose to his feet, made a great show of brushing the dirt off his clothing, and staggered down the street, singing at the top of his lungs.

__

When up the shrouds the sailor goes  
And ventures on the yard  
The landsman who no better know  
Believe his lot is hard  
Bold Jack with smiles each danger meets  
Weighs anchor heaves the log  
Trims all the sails belays his sheets  
And drinks his can of grog  
  
If to engage they give the word  
To quarters he'll repair  
Now winding in the dismal flood  
Now quivering in the air  
When waves 'gainst rocks to rend and roar  
You'll n'er hear him repine  
Though he's on Greenland's icy shore  
Or burning beneath the line  
  
When sailing orders to arrive  
Bold Jack he takes his leave  
My dear sweetest Pol he cries  
I pray now do not grieve  
Thy Jack will take his daily can  
Of grog and drink to thee  
In hopes that thou will n'er forget  
Thy sailor who's at sea  
  
But should thou false or fickle prove  
To Jack who loves thee dear  
No more upon my native shore  
Can I with joy appear  
But restless as the briny main  
Must heartless heave the log  
Shall trim the sails and try to drown  
My sorrow in cans of grog  
  


Horatio regarded the drunk with distaste, watching him as he stumbled and fell, then got to his feet, still bellowing "Cans of Grog". "Oh, not here, Archie," he pleaded with his friend. "This is not one of the places we usually go. Why do we not head over to our favorite tavern?"

Archie frowned. "We always go to the same one?"

"Usually," Horatio said, taking Archie's arm and steering him away from the Mermaid. "You'll like the Black Swan, I promise."

"Black Swan, eh?" Archie said as he followed Horatio. "Doesn't sound like quite as much fun as a Smiling Mermaid." 

"It's a wonderful place, honestly, Archie. We usually take a room there, and the meals are simply wonderful, and very affordable for two such impoverished young men as ourselves."

Archie sighed. "Money, or rather the lack of it. The lot of a sailor's life, and the bane of his existence." He checked his pockets, pulling out a few coins and inspecting them. "Well, at least I have enough for tonight. Very well, Mr. Hornblower. Lead on."

The two men continued down the street toward their lodging. Not far now, thought Horatio with relief. He really despised this part of town, with its drunks and its wanton women everywhere - it made him very uncomfortable. He would be very happy to reach the Black Swan. 

"We're almost there, Archie," he said, then stopped as he realized Archie was no longer beside him. "Archie?" he said, turning around, then groaned at the sight before him.

Archie was conversing with a young lady - and Horatio used that term lightly - beside the entrance to an alley. The woman, dressed in a cheap dress, was running her hand up and down Archie's arm, smiling at him. Horatio hurried to Archie's side, just in time to hear the woman speaking.

"See? It ain't so much, sailor. You got the money."

"Archie," Horatio warned. "We must go."

Archie didn't even look at him. "You go, Mr. Hornblower. I'll be along presently."

"Archie..."

The woman looked at him, her smile widening. "You can wait, honey, and when he's done, you can have your turn. Same price for each." She wrapped her arm around Archie's, and pulled him into the alley. 

Archie grinned back at Horatio. "We won't be long, Mr. Hornblower. Wait if you wish."

"Archie," Horatio protested, but Archie and the woman had disappeared into the darkness. Awkwardly, Horatio stood there, uncertain what to do. He didn't dare just leave Archie alone, but he felt ridiculous standing here while Archie...

His eyes widened as certain sounds began emanating from the alley, and he quickly turned and walked away, almost stumbling over his feet in his haste to get away. This was humiliating.

Damn. He couldn't leave Archie. Now what was he supposed to do? Sighing, he leaned back against the wall of a building, trying to look nonchalant, like he did this every shore leave, but failing miserably. Every time someone walked by, he felt as if they were sizing him up and laughing at him. Twisting his hat uncomfortably in his hands, he watched as a couple of young ladies-of-the-evening walked past. They ran their eyes up and down his body, and Horatio, embarrassed, turned and pretended to be intently inspecting the merchandise in the window of the shop. The girls giggled, and he realized with horror that he was staring into a dressmaker's shop, someone who obviously specialized in dresses and attire for the type of woman Archie was with at the moment. Face flaming, he turned back to the street.

"Ready for your turn?" It was Archie, straightening his uniform, with a silly grin on his face.

Horatio made a face. "I think not, Archie. Really, was that necessary?"

Archie laughed and clapped a hand on Horatio's shoulder. "Yes, Mr. Hornblower, it was. Now, where is this Black Bird we are looking for?"

"Swan, Archie," Horatio corrected him as they turned and made their way up the street. "The Black Swan. Don't you remember?"

Sighing with exasperation, Archie shook his head. "No, Mr. Hornblower, I do not remember. Don't you remember that I cannot remember anything?" A grin split his face again, and he laughed. "Well, there are **some** things I seem to recall quite well!"

"Well, you can just forget about them for now," Horatio said firmly. "We are here to try to restore your memory, not catch disease from loose women."

Archie choked. "Loose women? Oh, come now, Mr. Hornblower, haven't you ever...?"

"That is not the issue here, Archie. Ah, here we go," he said with relief. "The Black Swan, to be our home for the next few days. Shall we?" He opened the door to the inn, and the two men went inside.

And let's hope, thought Horatio, that this place will inspire memories in him. We must start somewhere. Time grows short.

****


	8. Chapter Eight

****

Chapter Eight

"Gentlemen! What a pleasant surprise it is to see you. Will you be staying long?"

Horatio shook his head as he signed the register at the Black Swan. "Not this time, Mr. Andrews, but we shall hopefully return in a few days. We'll be here for tonight, and then back to the ship for several nights watch, but then we will be free again to return."

"Well, I'm always glad to see such fine young gentlemen as yourself. Room fifteen is free - nice and clean with a view of the street. That suit you as usual?"

"Just fine, Mr. Andrews, just fine," Horatio said, turning to look at Archie. "Ready, Mr. Kennedy?"

Archie was looking around him, studying the place. Small but clean, the room was filled with lower-ranking officers and the sounds of drinking and cards being slapped upon the scarred tables. Not the Mermaid, he thought with a sigh, but at least it shows some promise of entertainment.

"Yes, Mr. Hornblower," he finally answered Horatio. "I'm quite ready for dinner."

Horatio laughed. "Yes, you did work up an appetite, didn't you. Let us take our dunnage upstairs, and then we'll come down and order some dinner." He grabbed his valise from where he had dropped it on the floor, and headed up the stairs. "Coming, Mr. Kennedy?"

"Of course, sir," Archie answered, picking up his own bag and following him up the narrow stairs. They went up three flights of stairs before they finally reached their room.

"Good god, Mr. Hornblower," Archie groaned. "Could you not have procured a room closer to the dining room, instead of in the attic?"

Horatio, disappointed, looked at him. "This is the room we always take, Archie. It may be small, but it is the only thing we can afford, if we also wish to eat while ashore." He opened the door and went inside, Archie following after him.

"This?" he said in disbelief. "This is where we stay? Mr. Andrews should be paying **us** to stay here - there's scarce room to turn around! And there is only one bed - I suppose that I, as the junior officer, must sleep on the floor. Well, at least there is a washbasin. I suppose that is some small comfort."

"I'm sorry, Archie," Horatio said apologetically. "It isn't much, but it really is the best we can procure for our money. The bed is big enough for two, so I shan't force you to sleep upon the floor, and besides, we won't be spending all of our time here. There is much for us to explore, many old familiar places we always go, and I should like to visit as many as possible. Surely something will be familiar."

"The only thing that is familiar," Archie grumbled, "is this gnawing in my stomach. Is it now time for us to go eat?"

Horatio laughed. "Very well, Archie. If you are ready to dine, then dine we shall."

The two men threw their bags on the bed and went back down to the dining room, taking a table near the back of the room. A pretty young serving girl came to take their order, smiling at the two handsome young officers. Horatio nodded to her, but Archie returned her smile with a brilliant one of his own, and the girl colored slightly.

"What can I get you fine sirs?" she asked in a light, musical voice. "We have a fine chicken this evening, specially prepared."

"That sounds perfect," Archie said, smiling at her again. "We'll take two, and two pots of ale, please."

Dropping a small curtsey, the girl smiled back, then hurried off to the kitchen. Horatio shook his head.

"Another conquest already, Archie?"

Archie grinned as he looked around. "She's certainly a pretty little thing, don't you think? That cloud of dark hair, those beautiful brown eyes - she's quite charming."

Horatio snorted. "I do not think it is her charm you are looking at, Archie."

Archie laughed, and the two men leaned back against the booth and looked around. Horatio nodded to a couple of officers he recognized, but Archie merely looked at them blankly. No, sighed Horatio to himself, he still doesn't know anyone.

Their meal arrived quickly, and the two men dug in with gusto. The serving girl had been correct, and the chicken was delicious. Horatio hadn't realized how hungry he was, and conversation lagged as they quickly filled their bellies. Archie ordered several more pots of ale, though Horatio stopped at two.

Finally, their appetites satisfied, they put down their forks and pushed their plates away. Archie finished off his ale, and ordered more.

"Archie, don't you think you've had enough?" Horatio asked reprovingly. "You don't wish to cloud your mind any more than it already is."

Archie glared at him, and opened his mouth to reply, when someone stopped at their table.

"Why, Lieutenant Hornblower! How unexpected!"

Horatio looked up. "Good heavens," he said with surprise. "Lieutenant Chalke." He rose to his feet and shook the older man's hand. "It's been quite some time."

"Years," Chalke agreed, nodding to Archie. "The last time I saw you, you were merely a midshipman, and had just challenged that brigand Mr. Simpson to a duel. I assume you came out the winner, since you are here now."

Horatio shot a glance at Archie at the mention of Simpson's name, but Archie had not reacted at all. Good, he thought with an inward sigh of relief. He turned back to Chalke.

"That, sir, is another story, perhaps best told over a game of cards. Would you care for a hand?"

Chalke's eyes lit up. "Ah, yes, I would, even though I've not forgotten how badly you beat me the last time! Perhaps I shall have better luck this turn."

Horatio turned to Archie. "Mr. Kennedy? Would you care for a hand of whist?"

Archie frowned. "Whist? Do I play?"

Chalke looked puzzled, and Horatio hastened to explain. "Mr. Kennedy has had a few too many cups of grog tonight, I do believe." He turned back to Archie, a mercenary gleam in his eye. "Why yes, Mr. Kennedy, you very much enjoy a good game of cards. We've spent many an evening aboard the _Indy_ with a deck of cards."

"_Indefatigable_?" said Chalke with respect. "You serve with Pellew, then? You've done well for yourself, sir."

"I - we - are very fortunate," Horatio said humbly. "She is a fine ship, with a fine captain. Are you still with the _Goliath_?"

"No, no," Chalke shook his head. "I am now second lieutenant aboard _Renown_, under Captain James Sawyer."

"Sawyer," Horatio said, almost with awe. "He is quite a legend."

"Well, yes, I suppose," Chalke said uncomfortably. "Now, one of my midshipmen is here with me, so we have a fourth. Shall we?"

Horatio nodded. "Come, Mr. Kennedy. The cards await." Archie tried to get up, but fell back in his seat. Planting his feet, he tried to rise again, but bumped into the table and fell back again. He looked up at Horatio, blue eyes wide with inebriation.

"I think, sir, that I shall require assistance."

Horatio shook his head and took Archie by the arm, hauling him to his feet. "Are you able to walk?"

"Of course," Archie said haughtily. Slowly, he put one foot in front of the other and carefully made his way across the room. Halfway through, he swayed slightly, and tipped to one side. Horatio caught his arm.

"Are you well, Mr. Kennedy?"

"I'm just fine," Archie said, slowly enunciating each word. "Just listing a little bit. It would help if this ship would stop pitching so. Are we having a squall?"

Horatio steadied his friend, and Chalke smiled as he asked, "You wish to take a reef, sir?"

"I do not," Archie said with dignity. "I wish to take a pi-"

"Very good, Mr. Kennedy," Horatio said hurriedly, interrupting him. "Let's see if we cannot get this ship a little more steady for you."

"That would be nice," Archie agreed, shaking his head vigorously, and teetering against Horatio. "Are we having a storm, then?"

Horatio and Chalke exchanged amused grins. "No, Mr. Kennedy," Horatio said. "We are having a card game. Remember?"

"Can't remember anything, remember?" Archie mumbled, then grinned. "But at least I remember that I can't remember, and that you remember that I can't remember, and…"

"All right, Mr. Kennedy," Horatio laughed. "Perhaps a game of cards and some coffee will help your memory."

The three men sat down at the table occupied by Midshipman Farley, and the game quickly commenced. Archie soon sobered up enough to realize that he was losing - badly - and he glared as Horatio won another game. Bets were settled up, with Horatio taking almost everything, and Lieutenant Chalke and Midshipman Farley said their good nights. Archie was still glaring at Horatio.

"I thought you said I played cards."

"Oh, I did, Mr. Kennedy. I just never said you were any good at it."

"Thought we were supposed to be friends," Archie grumbled as he shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs out of it. He was sober enough now to realize that Horatio had set him up to lose, and Archie was none too happy about that.

Horatio's heart leapt into his throat. After all he had done this past week to try to remind Archie of how close of friends they had been, had he thrown it all away for the chance to win some coins? What if Archie never forgave him, what if he thought Horatio had deliberately taken advantage of his poor card skills? He looked over at Archie, who was sulking in his chair.

"Archie, I'm sorry," he said contritely. "Look, this money is for the both of us. Now we can dine wherever we wish, and still have plenty of money left over. Perhaps you would like to return and buy that Shakespeare book Mr. Griffith recommended. Maybe…"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Mr. Hornblower," Archie said with disgust. "I do not want the blasted book." He looked at Horatio, arching an eyebrow. "There is something you can do to make it up to me, though."

"Anything, Archie. Just name it."

"Can we please have some fun? I say we go find a couple of young ladies and take them up to that tiny room we have…"

"Archie!" Horatio said, embarrassed. "I don't think so."

"What? This is not something we have ever done before?"

"Not exactly."

"Ah," said Archie knowingly. "You mean this is something YOU have never done before."

"Archie..."

"Oh, for god's sake, Mr. Hornblower, let yourself go! Have some fun! For once in your life, forget about duty, and enjoy yourself!"

"It's not that simple for me, Archie."

"Why not?"

"Because I cannot just, simply, well, be **casual** about it. I wish to be with a young lady who means more to me than simple physical release."

"Well, not me," stated Archie. "I intend to enjoy myself. You'll stay down here, then, and not disturb us?"

Horatio regarded him warily. "You are so certain you can find a young lady of a willing nature?"

"Trust me, Mr. Hornblower," Archie grinned, turning the phrase Horatio had so often used on him. "That will not be a problem." He looked across the room to where their serving girl sat at the bar.

"Archie, you cannot be serious."

"Why not? She's pretty, she was definitely interested…"

"You don't know what she was interested in, Archie. Not all women will go to bed with any man who smiles at her. Perhaps she is a proper young lady who will slap your face if you suggest such a thing to her."

Archie laughed. "Oh, Mr. Hornblower, you are much too rigid. I suggest you go find yourself another three boring officers, and play several games of whist, and I shall see you when we have both concluded our business. Good evening, sir."

Horatio watched as Archie made his way over to the girl, then shook his head as Archie kissed the girl's hand and bowed slightly before her. The two remained at the counter for some time, talking and laughing, the girl blushing as Archie leaned in close to her and whispered something in her ear. Her eyes sparkling, she nodded, and jumped off her stool. Archie took her hand and they headed up the stairs.

Horatio watched them go in disbelief. He would never understand why it was so easy for some men. He, himself, could not even speak to a female without stumbling over his words, if he was even able to think of something to say. Invariably, he just made an idiot out of himself, an undignified fool who could not banter with females. Women always loved Archie, even if he rarely took advantage of their interest. Horatio simply did not understand how to relate to them.

"Left behind, eh, Mr. Hornblower?" It was the proprietor, clearing off the table next to him.

"Yes," sighed Horatio. "Perhaps I should have another pot of ale."

Andrews laughed, then fetched him a drink. "Molly's a good girl," he said as he placed the mug in front of Horatio. "She'll give him a fair tumble, I'll wager."

Horatio colored. Good heavens, did **no** one have any propriety these days? Quickly, he drained his cup of ale, then rose to his feet. Perhaps a nice long walk would be good. The girl Molly had not appeared back downstairs yet, so it looked like Archie would be occupied for quite some time, and as he had no desire to walk in on the two of them, he needed something to do to occupy his time. A walk was ideal.

**********

"I thank you, kind sir," Molly giggled as she left Archie's room. "Maybe we can do it again sometime."

"Count on that," Archie agreed. When the girl had left, he quickly washed up at the washbasin and pulled his clothes on. He headed out the door and down the stairs, not listing at all along the way - his exertions had worn off the effects of the ale he'd had. Now he had to find Horatio.

Arriving downstairs, he looked around the room. Several card games were going on, but there was no sign of Horatio. Strange, thought Archie, and then he shrugged. Perhaps his friend had finally taken his advice and found himself a willing woman for the evening. Now **there** was a positive step! He decided to go outside and look around, just in case Horatio was merely sitting out in the darkness, waiting for him to finish.

There was no sign of Horatio anywhere outside, either, so Archie continued on down the street, eventually finding himself headed toward the Smiling Mermaid. It won't hurt just to look in there, he told himself. Maybe someone will have seen him.

"What are you sayin'?" came a familiar voice from the alley just outside the Smiling Mermaid, and Archie slowed his steps, stopping at the end of the alley. Something told him that he wanted to hear what was being said, so he waited in the shadows, noting two men standing in the darkness, conversing.

"I'm tellin' ya, Whitney, it's God's honest truth."

Malley, thought Archie with distaste. What lie is he feeding poor Whitney now?

"I dunt b'lieve it. Mr. Kennedy 'n' Mr. 'Ornblower ain't like that."

"Well, o' course they ain't gonna show it to ever'one - they sneak off into the cable tiers and such."

"Why would they do that?" asked Whitney, doubt evident in his voice. "I mean, they got their own cabins - why'd they want to go where they might get caught?"

"Cuz," Malley said with exasperation. "Them cabins got too thin o' walls. Someone'd hear them, fer sure. Why you think they allus take shore leave together? Gives 'em even more time fer it."

"Nah, it ain't so."

"I swear it! Look, Whitney, I seen 'em."

"You seen 'em?" Whitney sounded completely astounded. "Ya mean, act'lly..."

"Yep," Malley continued on, excitement in his voice. "I seen 'em plain as day, way down deep in the hold - Kennedy flat on 'is back, 'n' Hornblower atop 'im, cryin' out 'is name - it's disgustin', it is. They should hang fer what they are."

Archie, still hiding in the shadows, was numb with shock. He knew he hadn't mistaken Malley's meaning, and a chill crept over him as all sorts of pieces began to fall together.

"I still dunt b'lieve it," Whitney said slowly, "but if you act'lly saw 'em..."

"Oh, I did," Malley said gleefully. "And we gots to do somethin' 'bout it. We all knows the damn Admiralty looks t' other way most times, even if the Articles of War say they should be hanged, so we got t' be the ones t' take care of 'em. Gotta be us."

Archie couldn't listen anymore. He turned and fled into the night, fighting back the images in his head, images of himself with the man who kept claiming he was his best friend....No. It couldn't be so. And yet, now so many other things made sense, so many things he'd instinctively questioned, but had pushed aside because Horatio assured him they were friends.

An image floated into his mind; Molly in the bed with him, her dark hair flowing across the pillow, her brown eyes laughing with pleasure. Dark hair, dark eyes. Just like Horatio. Dear god, had he chosen her because she looked like him? Had his body remembered what his mind had forgotten? Archie stopped and leaned against a wall as he fought back a wave of nausea. Had he thought she was Horatio?

Horatio. He had to find him, had to confront him about what he'd just heard. God knew what he'd do when he found him, but it must be done. This was one part of his past he **had** to know about. He had to. His life could depend on it.

****


	9. Chapter Nine

****

Chapter Nine

Archie took no notice of anything as he strode through the streets, back to the Black Swan. He couldn't stop his mind from churning, from picturing things he would rather not, from seeing images that should not be...Fear and anger both grew inside him as he reached the inn and went inside. 

Horatio was not in the main dining area, so Archie headed toward their room (the room with one bed, he thought bitterly), taking the rickety stairs two at a time. Reaching the attic, he flung open the door and went inside.

Horatio was just washing up at the basin, his frilly white shirt unbuttoned to the waist. Drying his face off with a towel, he greeted Archie with a smile.

"Ah, there you are, Archie. I was beginning to wonder if you had gotten lost."

Archie watched him for a moment, uncertain just where to start. Anger was now burning slowly within his chest, anger that others knew what he did not, and anger that Horatio would keep such knowledge from him. Slowly, he closed the door, and circled around Horatio.

Puzzled, Horatio turned to watch Archie circle the tiny room. "Archie? Is something the matter?"

"The matter?" Archie said as he finally stopped his pacing and turned to face Horatio. "Oh, I should say so."

"Well, what is it?"

"I went looking for you," Archie said, beginning to circle around Horatio again, Horatio turning to watch him.

"It appears you have found me."

"I went to the Smiling Mermaid," Archie said, still circling around him. "Very intriguing place, that. You hear the most...interesting...things."

"Archie," Horatio said, reaching out and taking his arm. Archie flinched, and Horatio instantly dropped his hand. "Will you please stand still and make sense? I am getting quite dizzy."

Archie turned and faced him, blue eyes boring into brown. "I wish for **you** to make sense, Mr. Hornblower."

"Well, if you will tell me what you heard, perhaps I **can** make sense."

Archie decided to come right out with it, no beating around the bush. He had to know. "I overheard two of my men speaking outside the Mermaid. They spoke of us."

"What about us?"

Tilting his chin up slightly, Archie said, "They spoke of a relationship between us that is not friendship."

Horatio laughed. "Not friendship? I assure you, Archie, we are the closest of friends. I don't know why your men would be saying we are not."

Archie shook his head, his golden queue falling over his shoulder and then sliding down his back again. "That is not what they said. But what they said made so many other little things make sense, so many things I believed to be a product of my own imagination."

"Things like what, Archie?"

Taking a step back, Archie put as much space between them as possible before he could continue. "You are overly solicitous to me. You frequently touch me. You address me with familiarity, using my Christian name when others are not around. You tell me I am the more romantic of the two of us. You buy me poetry. You look at me with such emotion in your eyes sometimes." He took a deep breath. "Are we more than friends?"

Horatio, stunned, was not sure how to answer. He'd never looked at their relationship in that way. Never having had a close friend before, he had never imagined anything unacceptable in his friendship with Archie.

Slowly, feeling his way, he said, "We have shared so many experiences, things that have affected us both deeply, things that others cannot and will not ever understand. We are bound together, you and I."

"Bound? How? By love?"

"Yes," Horatio answered honestly, surprising himself, for the word had never been spoken between them. It was, he knew, the truth, and Archie deserved to hear it. "But **not** the love between lovers. I did not even know the meaning of that word, until I met you, until we became friends. We are friends only, Archie, though we are also as brothers. Brothers, not lovers."

Horatio fell silent as he watched Archie struggle for a moment. He did not know why Archie suddenly believed this of their friendship, but somehow, he had to accept that what Horatio was saying was the truth. Horatio knew that he could not tell Archie of Simpson, could not allow him to know how he was abused for so long, raped and beaten and humiliated all through his youth, for it would crumble the man he was now, the strong, confident, in-charge officer he had become. No, it was better that Archie have doubts about the nature of their relationship, than suffer the knowledge that he had been used in such a way. Intimacy was very difficult for the both of them, Horatio simply because it was not his nature, and Archie because Simpson had destroyed that part of him, but with each other, it was as natural as breathing. But it was not, and never would be, a physical intimacy.

Archie's choked voice broke into his thoughts. "Then why would Malley say that he saw us together, in that way?"

"Malley?" Horatio almost laughed with relief. "Archie, Malley hates us both, and he especially despises you. He would do anything to discredit us, anything to hurt us. If he and Fuller..."

"No," Archie said. "It was Whitney he was talking to."

"Whitney? Oh, Archie, that explains everything. Look," he said, taking Archie's arm and pushing him gently to sit on the bed, Horatio sitting at the opposite end. "Malley knows that you are vulnerable right now, that whilst you are not bothered aboard the _Indy_ by your loss of memory, it still troubles you that you cannot remember your past. If he can create doubt in Whitney - and trust me, Whitney is very young, naive, and gullible - then he can work at turning all of your division against you. Haversham is already on the edge. He wants the upper hand, Archie, and he'll use Whitney and anyone else to get it."

Archie's blue eyes studied Horatio. "You swear we are not lovers?"

"I swear it, Archie, on everything I hold sacred. If my displays of friendship have in any way offended you or caused you embarrassment, then I truly apologize. It was never my intent to do so."

Archie lowered his eyes to the bed, studying the quilt, as relief washed over him. Friends only. Still not meeting Horatio's eyes, he nodded slowly, still uneasy, but wanting to believe the other man.

Horatio nodded in return, then rose to his feet. "Very good, Archie. Look, it has been a very long day for us both - in fact, it's been a very long week. Why don't we get some rest now, and we can see what tomorrow brings. Remember, you have the watch tomorrow noon."

"I remember," Archie said softly, thinking of the near-irony in that statement. "But Mr. Hornblower, I...I'm sorry, I am still not comfortable with this."

"With us?" Horatio said quietly, trying to ignore the hurt Archie's distance was bringing.

"Yes."

"You are uncomfortable with us staying here in this room, together."

"Yes," Archie said so quietly Horatio could barely hear him. 

"I understand, Archie," Horatio said, moving over to the dresser. "I think it best if I return to the _Indy_ tonight - you stay here and rest, and I will see you back on the ship tomorrow."

"Thank you," Archie said softly. "I'm sorry this shore leave did not turn out as you had planned."

"It's all right, Archie," Horatio said as he began to gather up his few belongings and place them in his valise, still struggling to keep the hurt from showing in his voice. "I had hoped that you would recognize something or someone here, but I still have faith that it will happen soon."

"I am glad that someone has faith," Archie said, once again staring at the quilt on the bed. "Because I fear I have lost mine."

Uncertain of what to say to that, Horatio just stood and looked at his friend for a moment. Archie's anger seemed to have abated a little, though his shoulders were still tense and he could not meet Horatio's eyes, and a sort of sad acceptance had begun to settle over him. Horatio could almost glimpse a bit of the boy Archie used to be, the one who had always accepted that his life was not to be an easy one, the one who was frightened of the night and its memories - the one so recently supplanted by the strong, in-command officer he was now. A bit awkwardly, Horatio stood beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Do not think that way, Archie," he said firmly. "This has only been a minor setback. Your memory **will** return, and life will go on as it always has aboard _Indefatigable_, and our friendship will still be intact. Think of it, Archie. Even though you don't remember Muzillac or El Ferrol, or any of the other things we have endured together, we have still become friends. That is the tie that binds us together. It is something that will never change, even under the very worst of conditions."

Archie sighed. "There are worse conditions than this?"

"Aye," Horatio laughed. "And we've already been through most of them. I cannot imagine what is left out there for us to endure." He picked up his valise, then opened the door to the tiny room, turning around one last time. "I'll see you tomorrow, Archie. Don't forget about your watch."

Archie, his gaze firmly planted on the floor, nodded, and Horatio left, closing the door behind him. Another closed door, thought Archie. Just like all of the closed doors in my mind, all the doors that are firmly locked against me. Lying back on the bed, he stared up at the ceiling, his emotions still boiling around inside him.

He wanted to believe Horatio - he **did** believe Horatio. But that didn't change the fact that Malley was trying to poison his division against him, that his own men were willing to believe the worst of him. How was he supposed to win their respect now, for he could not confront Malley's accusations, not without risking the charges being taken seriously. He was well aware of the penalty for what Malley spoke of.

But by keeping silent, was he tacitly giving credence to the idea? Would he and Horatio be forever looking over their shoulders, would they always be afraid of expressing their affection for each other, for fear of it being interpreted incorrectly, and having it lead them both to the noose? No, dammit, Archie thought angrily, rising to his feet. I'll not live like that. I'll not live in fear.

He blew out the candle and went down the stairs. Though it was late, it was not so late that the Black Swan was closed, so he ordered some ale, standing at the bar and drinking it, his anger still continuing to rise. Something had to be done, someone had to silence Malley and his accusations, and there was only one man who could do that. Finishing his fourth mug of ale, Archie tossed some coins on the counter and left. It ends here, he thought determinedly. It ends now.

Things were even more raucous and loud than when he had been at the Smiling Mermaid before. He walked in through the door, taking a moment to look around the place. It was a sailor's bar, through and through. Netting hung from the ceiling, with ships lanterns and captain's wheels adorning the walls, alongside cheap paintings of ships at sea, depicted in stormy weather or engaged in battle. In the corner, a fiddler and a flute player traded verses on "Nancy Dawson", the lively tune often drowned out by the sailors' laughter and song. Stretched out on the wall behind the bar was the place's namesake, an enormous carving of a laughing mermaid, naked from the waist up, with dark green fins and scales covering her lower half. Painted red lips smiled widely at the sailors in the room, while long yellow hair cascaded over her shoulder.

A loud round of laughter broke Archie's contemplation of the place, and he drew his gaze away from the oversized mermaid. A large group of sailors was gathered around a table, cheering on a drinking contest.

"Come on, Malley! You can do it!"

"He ain't got no chance! Keep 'em comin', Billy!"

Archie moved over to the edge of the group to watch the contest. Malley was inhaling drink after drink, but the burly man across from him was matching him pot for pot. It wasn't long before burly Billy turned green, and lost both the contents of his stomach and the contest simultaneously. A loud cheer went up as Malley jumped to his feet.

"I win!" he roared drunkenly. "More ale!"

The crowd cheered again, and a couple of drinks were thrust into Malley's hands. He poured them down his throat, then raised the mugs above his head, roaring out his approval of his own feat.

Archie pushed his way to the front of the crowd, and Malley caught sight of him as he arrived. Looking as if he had swallowed something unpleasant, he sneered at Archie, his tone nasty and unpleasant when he spoke.

"Off'cers ain't welcome here."

"I saw no sign saying such," Archie said steadily. "And what about those officers at the table over there?"

Malley shoved his way over to stand chest to chest with Archie, though he towered over the younger man. "I meant, off'cers like **you** ain't welcome here."

"And just what does that mean?" Archie said quietly, his voice dangerously low. "What kind of officer do you speak of?"

"Worthless ones," snapped Malley. "Weak, spoiled, pitiful little women ones that should be prancin' 'round some girly dance 'stead of bein' on a man's ship. You ain't got no place aboard ship, ya scrawny runt."

"I should watch my words, if I were you," said Archie, his voice still pitched low. "That is dangerous close to insubordination. I could have you flogged for less."

"You ain't got the guts for that," mocked Malley. "Yer too weak fer anythin' but lyin' under your 'friend' and - "

Archie's fist flew out, catching Malley unaware, and knocking him sprawling against the table. Mugs still full of ale flew every-which-way, drenching the crowd that was still lingering around and then crashing to the floor, shattering into dozens of pieces. The fiddler stopped his chorus, and the rest of the room fell silent as Malley, furious, pulled himself back to his feet.

"I'll kill you fer that," he snarled, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. "Ain't no soddin' officer gonna hit me." He wiped the blood away with the back of his hand and advanced toward Archie, pushing up the sleeves of his dirty plaid shirt as he did. "Yer gonna pay, Kennedy. An' pay good."

Refusing to back down, Archie pushed up his own sleeves. It wasn't the way he wanted it and certainly not the way he had planned the confrontation, but if a fight was what Malley wanted, then a fight was what he would have. Some men understood nothing but brute force.

"I think not, Mr. Malley," he said with conviction. "I ask - " He never got to finish the sentence, as a blow from behind sent him crashing to the floor, blackness and pain enveloping him as he fell, unconscious.

Malley gaped at him for a moment, then raised his eyes to the man standing over him. It was Whitney, a broken table leg clutched in his hand as he stared down at Archie's prostrate body. A huge grin broke over Malley's face.

"I knew you was one of us, mate," he cheered, wrapping his arm briefly around the young man's shoulders. "I owe you a drink."

Whitney was still staring down at Archie, beginning to feel a little sick to his stomach. He hadn't wanted to hurt Mr. Kennedy, but Malley was right. A man who fancied other men was not someone who should be allowed aboard a ship of war, for who knew what kind of trouble would come because of it? Whitney just wanted to be a sailor. He wanted to sail the seas and fight the frogs, not worry about whether the officer in charge of his division was going to ask him to do something unnatural. Or even worse, order him to do it. No, he'd done the right thing, hitting Mr. Kennedy.

He raised his eyes to Malley's face, and nodded. "I 'spect you do, Malley."

Malley roared with laughter at that. Looking down at Archie, his lip curled with distaste. Worthless excuse for a man...His mouth curved into a smile as an idea came to him. He pushed Whitney toward the bar, handing him a couple of coins.

"You go get some drinks. I got a mess to clean up." Whitney left, and Malley motioned to some of his mates he'd been drinking with. He whispered something to them, and the three men laughed heartily, then bent down and picked Archie up, dragging him out the front door. Malley watched them go, still laughing to himself. He'd teach Kennedy, he would, and teach him good. No one hit Jethro Malley.

"Here ya go, Malley." Whitney handed him a pot of ale, and Malley downed it in one gulp. Whitney took a little more time, looking around as he did.

"Where'd Mr. Kennedy go?" he asked.

Malley guffawed. "Aw, a couple o' the boys jus' took 'im out to teach 'im a proper lesson. He'll be all right."

"They ain't gonna 'urt 'im, are they?" asked Whitney anxiously. He was starting to regret what he had done. Yes, Mr. Kennedy should be punished for being what he was, but he'd always been good to Whitney, always helping him when he didn't rightly understand things, and helping to make sure that he was all right. Sea life was hard, even for someone who wanted to be there, as Whitney did, and Mr. Kennedy had always taken care of him. Maybe he shouldn't have hit him so hard.

Malley turned to him, a cold look in his eye and Whitney shivered. Maybe he was siding with the wrong man here. 

"You care, Whitney?" Malley said angrily. "You care 'bout a buggerer? Maybe you like 'em that way, maybe you wanna join 'im 'n' 'Ornblower."

"No," Whitney said quickly. "I dunt. What he is is bad, I ain't sayin' it ain't. I jus' dunt wanna see 'im get killed, that's all."

"Don't matter if they kill 'im or not," said Malley smugly. "Cuz he's gonna hang if they don't, so 'e'll be dead either way. And then, Whitney," he said happily, putting his arm around the young man, "we's gonna have a party like you ain't never seen afore. We'll all watch 'im and his buggerer mate 'ang side b' side, and we'll drink to it all. Gonna be a great day, Whitney. You mark my words."

****


	10. Chapter Ten

****

Chapter Ten

Horatio came up on deck and took a deep breath of fresh air. After he had left Archie at the Black Swan the previous night, he had returned to _Indefatigable_ to retire for the evening. It had been very late when he arrived, and he had seen no one but Lt. Lawson, the officer of the watch. He'd fallen instantly asleep upon lying in his bed, and was astonished at how late it was when he finally arose. Why had no one awakened him?

Probably because they all thought you ashore with Mr. Kennedy, he thought to himself as he looked around. Thinking of Archie, he looked up at the sun. After noon already! Archie should be on watch. Perhaps he would seek him out, just to make certain sure that things were all right between them, that there was no awkwardness left over from Malley's accusations. He headed aft to search out his friend, but stopped at the sound of a commotion behind him. Turning, he witnessed Lieutenant Bracegirdle hurrying across the deck.

"Mr. Hornblower! Thank the heavens."

"Sir?" said Horatio, puzzled, as Bracegirdle reached his side.

"I was worried. I thought that perhaps something had happened."

"Happened? I don't understand, sir. What - "

"MISTER Hornblower!" It was Captain Pellew, bellowing across the deck, and Horatio and Bracegirdle hurried to his side.

"Aye, captain?" inquired Horatio.

"Where **is** he, sir?"

"Where is who?" Horatio asked, still confused.

"Mr. Kennedy!" roared the captain. "Why is he not on his watch?"

Horatio felt cold. Archie was not aboard _Indefatigable_? Where was he? He knew that Archie remembered he was due on watch - they'd spoken of it before he left the Black Swan last night.

"I don't know, sir," he said slowly. "I know he intended to be here. Something must have happened."

"Oh, something happened, all right, Mr. Hornblower," Pellew seethed, struggling to lower his voice so that the ratings could not hear him. "I had a visit from a certain Lieutenant Chalke last night. Do you know him, sir?"

"Yes, sir, I do. Lieutenant Chalke and I met many years ago, when I was aboard _Justinian_, and last night we renewed our acquaintance over a game of cards. I did not realize you knew him, sir."

"The point," Pellew fumed, "is not whether or not I know the man! He was here to deliver a message from Admiral Bennington, whom he had met on his return to his own ship. He spoke of meeting you and Mr. Kennedy at the Black Swan last night." He turned and fixed a stony stare on Horatio's face. "He mentioned that Mr. Kennedy was extremely inebriated."

"Yes, sir, he had a few drinks, but he was sober when I left him."

"You left him? You left alone an acting lieutenant who has no memory of anything outside of his ship? That was grossly negligent of you, sir."

"Begging your pardon, sir, but Mr. Kennedy asked me to leave. I was merely doing as he wished."

Pellew glared at him. "And you think that he was in any condition to make that sort of determination?"

"Sir, I - "

"Never mind, Mr. Hornblower," Pellew said, brushing him off. "I have dispatched a crew to go to the Black Swan to return Mr. Kennedy. He will face his punishment."

"Aye, sir," said Horatio, a sick feeling settling in his stomach. Pellew turned on his heel and left, Bracegirdle, throwing Horatio a sympathetic look, following after him. Horatio watched them go, then walked aft himself.

Where was Archie? He would never have simply not shown up - his naval career meant far too much to him, and he would never risk it, especially not now, when he was having to prove himself all over again. So why wasn't he here? Had he left the room and had more to drink? Had he drunk himself into oblivion, was he now lying passed out or hurt somewhere? Where could he be?

The sounds of skylarking sailors caught his attention. It was two off-duty divisions, including Archie's, having fun on deck. He watched as Malley roughhoused with Whitney, Fuller and Walters watching them with amusement, while Haversham was completely indifferent as he idly watched them play. Archie's men were here, but not Archie himself. Dammit.

"God **DAMN** it!" It was Pellew. Horatio nearly sprinted across the deck, arriving to find Pellew dismissing some sailors from the quarterdeck. Pellew, fire in his eyes, turned and saw Horatio standing there.

"Mr. Hornblower," he hissed, and Horatio stood before him.

"Aye, sir?"

Pellew fixed him with an angry stare. "Mr. Kennedy was not at the Black Swan. The proprietor said he left shortly after you did, and did not return. Where is he?"

"I swear, sir, I don't know. Permission to go ashore and look for him, sir."

"Denied," Pellew said brusquely. "You will finish his watch. But first, you will tell me why Mr. Kennedy asked you to leave him alone last night."

Panicked, Horatio tried to think of something. He couldn't tell the captain that Archie had been uncomfortable because his men believed him to be Horatio's lover, but he didn't want to lie to his captain, either. Pellew was angry enough. His mind blank, he stared at Pellew, trying to think of something, anything, to say.

"I'm waiting, Mr. Hornblower."

"Shore boat, ahoy!" It was a welcome distraction, thought Horatio as they all turned to see who was in the boat.

It was Archie. He climbed aboard, glancing at Horatio as he did, and then turning to present himself to his captain.

"Come aboard, sir."

Pellew stared hard at him, but Archie didn't flinch, meeting the steely dark gaze with a steady one of his own.

"You are late, Mr. Kennedy."

"Aye, sir. My apologies, sir."

"Have you an excuse?"

"No, sir, I do not."

Horatio groaned to himself. No, Archie, he thought. Make something up - the captain will believe you. He **wants** to believe you.

"Very well, Mr. Kennedy. You are aware of the punishments for missing a watch, or being drunk while on watch?"

Archie swallowed, but didn't flinch. "Yes, sir, I am."

Pellew nodded. "Very well. Present yourself in my quarters in two hours, and I will have decided what it shall be. Until then, you are confined to your quarters."

"Aye, sir," said Archie, saluting. Pellew and Bracegirdle left, and Horatio moved to Archie's side.

"What happened to you, Archie? Why weren't you here?"

Archie didn't meet his eyes. "Excuse me, Mr. Hornblower. I must go to my cabin. The captain is already angry enough with me." Almost as if to emphasize his point, at that very moment the captain turned around and saw the two of them standing there and conversing. His displeasure was evident all the way across the deck, and Archie quickly left Horatio and went below.

Horatio desperately wanted to go after Archie, or go after the captain to plead his friend's case, but he could not leave his watch. Pacing back and forth for the next hour, he tried to figure out why Archie hadn't come back, and why he wasn't explaining himself to Pellew. It made no sense.

"Mr. Hornblower, sir?" It was Midshipman Masters.

"Yes, Mr. Masters, what is it?" Horatio said sharply, then cursed himself. Masters was not the problem. "Is there something you need?"

"The captain requests your attendance in his cabin, sir. He has told me to hold the watch."

"Aye, Mr. Masters," Horatio said. He immediately headed toward the captain's cabin, wondering what it was now. Was the captain still wondering why he had left Archie alone? If so, he would tell him the truth. It just might help his friend.

He knocked and entered the cabin. Pellew was standing behind his desk, much as he had before, his head lowered. He turned to face Horatio, who was struck by the look of sadness in those dark eyes. Was the captain regretting his decision to punish Archie?

"You sent for me, sir?"

"Yes," Pellew said quietly. "Please, Mr. Hornblower, have a seat." He indicated the chairs across from his desk, and Horatio sat down in one, uncomfortable. This was most unusual.

Pellew sighed as he sat down himself, his hands picking up a compass on the desk and winding it between his fingers.

"I require your advice, sir."

Horatio was startled. "My advice, sir? On what?"

"On what to do about Mr. Kennedy's punishment."

Horatio's jaw almost dropped to the floor. The captain was seeking his counsel on disciplining a member of his own crew? This was completely unheard of.

"Sir?"

Pellew put down the compass and leaned heavily on the desk, resting his arms in front of him. "I realize this is unusual, Mr. Hornblower, but this is a unique case."

"Aye, sir."

"Mr. Kennedy has missed his watch. He must be punished. I am certain you agree with that assessment."

"With all due respect, sir, I am not certain I do."

Pellew snapped his head up to meet Horatio's gaze. "You think I should just let him off? What kind of example would that set? Did I not just punish Midshipman Bairnson for the same transgression two months ago? You suggest I ignore the fact that Mr. Kennedy has done the same thing?"

"No, sir, not exactly. It's just that there must be a reason Mr. Kennedy was so late. If you will allow me to speak to him, sir..."

"No." Pellew's voice was firm. "He must be dealt with accordingly. He was given a chance to state his case, and he did not have one. I asked you here to help me decide between one of two punishments for him."

"And they are?"

Pellew met his gaze firmly. "The first is the logical one, the most common one for this kind of circumstance."

Horatio took a deep breath. "Flogging."

"Yes," Pellew nodded. "I know of Mr. Kennedy's past, the beatings - and worse - he has suffered. My question to you is, do you think him capable of handling this?"

"It would not be easy for him under normal circumstances, sir," Horatio said slowly. "But he does not remember any of the other, earlier beatings. Still, it is possible that it would bring back those unpleasant memories, and cause him to..."

"...to have a fit," Pellew finished quietly.

Horatio leaned back in shock. "Sir?"

"I told you once, Mr. Hornblower, that a captain must know everything that happens aboard his ship. I know of Mr. Kennedy's affliction, but I also know that he has not suffered from one since his return from El Ferrol. You think it likely that this kind of punishment would bring one on?"

"It's possible, sir."

Both men were silent for a moment. Horatio thought, with no little wonder, of Pellew's knowledge, and of how he had still promoted Archie to acting lieutenant, and had even put his name forward for the exam, despite it. He'd had such faith in Archie, more than even Archie and Horatio had been aware of.

"Sir, if I may - what is the other choice for him?"

Pellew met his eyes again. "To be turned before the mast."

Horrified, Horatio pushed himself against the back of his chair. "To be reduced to a common sailor? Sir, you couldn't!"

"Couldn't I?" said Pellew coldly. "It **is** the captain's prerogative."

"But, sir..." Horatio's voice trailed off. He could not question the captain's decision - it did not work that way in the navy. Pellew could do whatever he wished and not suffer for it.

But Archie would suffer. God, how he would suffer. Malley would see to that, and more than likely not be punished for it. This was so unfair, Horatio thought hotly. Why did Archie not speak when he had the chance? He **had** to have a reason, he just had to.

"You think me unfair, Mr. Hornblower?"

Horatio started a bit, then hung his head for an instant. Was Pellew also able to read his mind? Forcing himself to meet the stern gaze across from him, he shook his head.

"No, sir, I understand that this must be done. Without discipline, the navy would cease to exist. Mr. Kennedy made a mistake, and he must be punished."

"Very good, Mr. Hornblower," Pellew said, pleased. "I know that it is difficult to accept this consequence when it is a friend who has faltered, but some day you, too, will have to make hard decisions such as this one. It is best to prepare yourself now."

"Aye, sir," said Horatio, all the while vowing that his men would never have the chance to miss a watch. He would guard them like a hawk.

"So which would be your decision?"

No, Horatio thought, please do not ask me this. I cannot do it, I cannot. Not to Archie. Anyone but him.

"Mr. Hornblower? What would you do in this situation?"

Blast, thought Horatio. I have no escape. Very well then. "I would put it to Mr. Kennedy, sir."

Pellew's eyes widened. "You would let a mere midshipman decide his own fate?"

"Acting lieutenant," Horatio said without thinking.

Pellew shook his head. "On the books, he is still a midshipman, which is why I am allowed to consider flogging. He has no commission yet."

"But you believe he will." Damned if I'm going to let him push me to this, Horatio thought. I can push just as hard.

"Yes, I do," Pellew answered, eyeing the young man before him. "He has shown me over the past week that he has an incredible grasp of all the functions of a ship."

"Yes," Horatio interjected. "So then to turn him before the mast serves no purpose except to embarrass him."

"Perhaps he **needs** embarrassment," Pellew said. "That way he will not be tempted to shirk his duties again. It is an intriguing suggestion you make, Mr. Hornblower, letting Mr. Kennedy make the decision regarding his punishment, and I believe that it will show just the kind of man he truly is."

Astounded, Horatio looked at him. "Then you will do it, sir?"

Pellew nodded as he pulled out his pocketwatch. "Yes. Mr. Kennedy will be here shortly and I shall put the matter before him."

"Aye, sir," Horatio said as he rose to his feet. "I trust he will make the best decision."

"Oh, you're not going anywhere, Mr. Hornblower. You will be here to witness this. It was your idea, and now you shall see the fruits of that idea. Sit."

Horatio sat, and the two men remained silent until a knock came at the door.

"Come," barked Pellew, rising to his feet.

Archie stepped inside, closing the door quietly behind him. He'd washed his face and straightened his queue and changed into a clean uniform before presenting himself before the captain, and now he stood tall before him. His gaze took in Horatio, who had risen to his feet and moved off to the side, but he said nothing to him, just facing his captain.

"Acting Lieutenant Kennedy reporting as ordered, sir."

"Yes, Mr. Kennedy. You know why you are here?"

"Aye, sir. I am here to receive punishment for missing my watch."

"And you know the punishment for that?"

"I do, sir."

Pellew clasped his hands behind his back as he regarded the young man before him. His sharp eyes took note of the bruises marking Archie's face, but what impressed him most was the clear, calm gaze that looked back at him. He was encouraged to note that there was no fear reflected there, just a calm acceptance.

"I will tell you, Mr. Kennedy, that this has been a most difficult decision for me. I had great hopes for you, sir, but I am extremely disappointed by your conduct. It was quite irresponsible of you, Mr. Kennedy."

"Yes, I understand, sir. It was inexcusable."

"Yes, sir, it was. Because of your unusual circumstances, I have been debating just how you should be punished. My first thought was the same as I had when you first lost your memory - to put you ashore and be done with you."

Archie swallowed, but his face remained impassive. "And is that your decision?"

"No," Pellew said shortly. "We are at war, sir, and the navy needs every man it can get. So my options were limited to two: to turn you before the mast, or to have you flogged."

Only a slight trembling of the chin betrayed what emotions Archie was feeling. "Those are the standard punishments, sir."

"Yes, they are. And if truth be told, you have disappointed me so badly that I seriously considered doing both of them."

"I apologize, sir. It was never my intent to cause you any distress."

"But you did, Mr. Kennedy. You did."

Archie closed his eyes briefly. No one felt worse about this than he did, but there was simply nothing to be done about it now. Nothing left but to accept his punishment like a man and get on with it.

"Again, my apologies, sir."

"Noted," Pellew said. "The decision regarding the manner of your punishment shall be your own."

It took a moment for that to register with Archie. "Sir?" he said in surprise, looking directly at the captain.

"Turned before the mast or flogged. It is up to you."

"Sir?" Archie said again in complete bewilderment. "My decision?"

"That is what I said, Mr. Kennedy," Pellew said impatiently. "And you may thank your friend Mr. Hornblower for the idea."

Archie swiveled his head around to look at Horatio, who looked back at him, trying to steady Archie with his gaze. Archie stared at him for a moment, not certain what he was feeling, and then he looked back at Pellew.

"Mr. Hornblower makes such decisions?"

"No, Mr. Kennedy," Pellew said sharply. "He makes suggestions. **I** make decisions. And now you shall make yours. What is it?"

Archie dropped his head, thinking hard. He flinched at the idea of a flogging - no one would welcome that - but to be turned before the mast, to have to serve as a regular seaman, to work beside Malley and Fuller with no recourse to anything they did to him... He had a good idea of how those two would react and it was too much. He simply didn't have the physical strength to continue fighting with a brute like Malley. Sooner or later, Malley would kill him.

He raised his eyes to meet Pellew's. "To be turned before the mast, to lose everything I have worked so hard for, even if it is only temporary, would be the worse thing I can imagine, sir. I would prefer almost anything but that."

Pellew looked back at him. "So you choose flogging, then."

Archie blanched, but his eyes did not leave Pellew's. "Aye, sir."

Pellew nodded. "Very well, Mr. Kennedy. It will be carried out tomorrow at six bells, with the full crew in attendance. Three dozen lashes."

Horatio bit back his reaction to that, as Archie paled visibly. Twelve was the usual and twenty-four considered excessive, thought Horatio angrily, and twelve more uncalled for. That was something you did to a common sailor, not an acting lieutenant with memory problems.

"Understood, sir," Archie said, his voice faint. "And thank you for not putting me ashore, sir. You would have been entitled." With a crisp salute, he turned and left the cabin, meeting Horatio's eyes briefly before he left.

Pellew was staring after him. "Bloody hell."

"Sir?" Horatio said.

"He thanked me. I order him flogged, and he bloody **thanks** me!"

Horatio fought back a grin despite the outcome, and his anger at the number chosen by Pellew. "Mr. Kennedy does have a habit of looking on the bright side of things, sir."

Pellew snorted. "I cannot imagine how he comes by that characteristic in this navy."

"It's just his nature, sir. He is rather...extraordinary."

"He'll have to be, Mr. Hornblower," Pellew said quietly. "Tomorrow will be his true test, when he undergoes the lash."

"Aye, sir," said Horatio, sobering. "And I doubt that he will disappoint either of us."

*********

__

Author's note: There has been some debate as to whether Pellew in truth would have flogged Archie or any other midshipman in full view of the crew, instead of below decks (as depicted in "Mutiny" and "Retribution" with Wellard). My contention is that Archie is several years older than Wellard was - he is past the age of majority or consent - and thus COULD be punished in this way. To support this, I cite the following:

By the 18th century we have reliable accounts of the punishment of midshipmen. These were trainee officers in their teens, usually better educated (or at least better connected) than ordinary seamen, and always referred to as "young gentlemen" rather than boys. One such, Jeffrey Raigersfeld (later Rear-Admiral), described life on the "Mediator" under Captain Collingwood in the 1780s:

... midshipmen were ... always open to the caprice of their commanding officers, punishments awarded to them during their apprenticeship, such as mast-heading, disrating, being turned before the mast, being flogged, and in fact being turned out of the service altogether, all of which are severe punishments; still I am of the opinion, they are ultimately for advantage to the individual, and equally for the benefit of the naval service of the country. 

Youth often runs wild and riotous, and requires a tight hand to keep it within bounds. On board the _Mediator_, all these punishments were inflicted at various times; and one morning after breakfast, while at anchor in St John's Road, Antigua, all the midshipmen were sent for into the Captain's cabin, and four of us were tied up one after the other to the breech of one of the guns, and flogged upon our bare bottoms with a cat-o'-nine-tails, by the boatswain of the ship; some received six lashes, some seven, and myself three. No doubt we all deserved it, and were thankful that we were punished in the cabin instead of upon deck, which was not uncommon in other ships of the fleet.

[Jeffrey Baron de Raigersfeld, _The Life of a Sea Officer_, c.1830, reprinted in the "Seafarers' Library", Cassell, London, 1929.]

It seems to have been during the late 18th and early 19th centuries that matters of naval discipline gradually began to be more standardized. As far as boys were concerned, there were three levels of corporal punishment, in ascending order of severity: on-the-spot caning, summary ceremonial flogging, and flogging by Court Martial, and this three-pronged system remained essentially in place all through the Navy's Victorian heyday until 1906.

· **On-the-spot caning:** All boys under 19 could be instantly punished with a cane on the spot for minor offences; no record was kept of these punishments, which could be dished out by any officer or the boatswain. Six strokes of the cane applied to the hands was authorized but, because it impaired a boy's ability to climb the rigging, most captains preferred posterior chastisement. Cabin boys and midshipmen were regularly caned for minor offences or slackness. 

· **Summary flogging:** For more serious offences, boys could be ceremonially flogged with the 'reduced cat' (sometimes referred to as the 'boy's cat' or 'pussy'), consisting of five tails of smooth whipcord. This was at a time when sea captains still had the summary power -- i.e. without reference to any higher authority -- to have sailors flogged with the cat-o'-nine-tails. Such floggings normally took place in the morning on the upper deck in front of the assembled crew, and had to be mentioned in the captain's daily log. Many 19th-century logbooks have survived and can be consulted in the Public Record Office. 

· **Flogging by Court Martial:** Courts Martial were held only for very serious offences. It was rare for boys to be taken before a Court Martial but, when they were, they could be ordered to be flogged with the adult "cat". One such event occurred in 1813, when 17-year-old Valentine Woods was formally sentenced to receive 60 lashes with the cat of nine tails "on his bare Posteriors" for stabbing a crewmate. 


	11. Chapter Eleven

****

Chapter Eleven

Archie left the captain's cabin and went belowdecks to his own. He closed the door behind him and sat upon his bed, his hands locked around his knees. His body wanted to shake, but he forced himself to be still. It could have been worse, he kept telling himself, over and over. You could be put ashore, and then what would you do? You have nothing but the _Indy_.

Thirty-six lashes. That was unexpected. The captain must truly be angry with him to order such a number. Twelve was supposed to be the limit, but very few captains abided by that rule, with three dozen regularly administered, and three hundred lashes not uncommon for the worst offenses.

Three hundred. Archie shuddered at the thought. How was it possible to survive that? It was going to be difficult enough to bear three dozen without breaking. He buried his head in his arms as he thought on that. Could he do it?

Yes, he thought determinedly. I can, and I will, for otherwise Malley wins, and that is completely unacceptable. I must prove to the captain, and to myself, that I am strong enough to withstand this, and that he will never have need to order it again. I must prove myself worthy of his respect. 

A soft knock sounded on his door. Archie sighed, knowing who it had to be.

"Archie?" It was Horatio.

Not moving from his bed, Archie raised his head. "Come in, Mr. Hornblower."

Horatio, hat in hand, stepped inside and closed the door behind him. "I'm sorry to intrude, Archie. I wanted to be sure you were all right."

Archie smiled faintly up at him. "All right? As of right now, I suppose I am. Ask me again tomorrow at this time." He indicated the foot of his bed. "Please, Mr. Hornblower. Have a seat."

Horatio regarded him for a moment. "You are all right with that?"

Sighing, Archie shook his head. "Mr. Hornblower, right now I have more things on my mind than the accusations of a drunken seaman who hates me. You have given your word on the nature of our friendship, and I accept that. Please sit."

Horatio sat, and an uncomfortable silence filled the tiny cabin. He looked around the room for a moment, and then turned his face to Archie's. Blue eyes regarded him steadily.

"I'm sorry, Archie," he said softly.

"For what? It is not your fault."

"But this should not be happening. I should have tried to convince the captain to come up with some other punishment, some other way..."

"No, Mr. Hornblower," Archie broke in. "I want no special favors from the captain, or from anyone else. He has already done more than enough for me, by allowing me to remain aboard _Indefatigable_ and perform my duties. There are not many captains who would have taken the time and effort to test me as he did. I deserve what he has assigned me."

Horatio looked at him. "Why, Archie?"

"Why what? Why do I deserve the punishment? You know the reason."

"No," Horatio answered, shaking his head. "Why were you not here for your watch? I know how happy you were to still be serving aboard the _Indy_. There had to be a reason why you were missing."

"I don't think it really matters anymore."

"Of course it does. Please, Archie, tell me. Were you so upset about what Malley accused us of that you could not bear to come back to face me? Did you drink more? Were you with another young lady?"

Archie chuckled softly. "I certainly wish that had been the reason. No, it was none of those."

"Then what was it?"

Archie leaned back against the bulkhead and quietly studied Horatio. His friend looked genuinely upset about what had transpired, and Archie found himself wishing that he remembered all the experiences they shared, and wondering if they had been through something similar to this before. A smile touched his lips as he thought about how close the two of them had become during the past near-fortnight since his accident. They must truly have been best friends before, for him to feel so comfortable with someone who should be as a stranger to him. The ties that bind, he thought, remembering Horatio's earlier comment. They are stronger than I would ever have expected.

"Archie?"

"Sorry," Archie said with a smile. "I was just thinking."

"About tomorrow?"

"No," Archie said slowly. "I was thinking that I want to tell you the truth about why I was not here for my watch."

Horatio settled himself against the bulkhead, glad that Archie was willing to confide in him. "I'm listening, Archie."

Archie drew a deep breath. "You were correct, in a sense. I **was** angry about what Malley had said, and I wanted to confront him about it. If that rumor went any further, it could destroy both of our futures, and I knew it had to be stopped now, so I went to the Smiling Mermaid, figuring that he would still be there."

"And he was?"

"Oh, yes," Archie said. "He was indeed. Drunk as a lord, cocky and irritating. He challenged me to a fight, and I accepted."

"A fight?" Horatio was appalled. "Archie, he is near twice your size!"

"Don't I know it," Archie said grimly. "But I couldn't let him get away with what he said. He started to accuse us, Mr. Hornblower, right there in front of everyone. I had to stop him before he said all of it, so I hit him."

"You threw the first punch," Horatio said slowly. "I thought you said he challenged you."

"He did, from a certain point of view. He accused me of something which could cost me my life or my career." Archie sighed. "It never amounted to anything. He got to his feet, but before either of us could go any further, someone hit me over the head."

"Someone. You mean Fuller."

Archie shrugged. "I don't know who it was. Truth be told, I never saw Fuller there at all that night, not the first time I was there, or when I went back to confront Malley. I can't say if it was him or not."

"So what happened?"

"I don't know. I went down, unconscious. The next thing I knew, I woke up, locked in a storeroom in a warehouse, with no windows or any way out. I banged on the door, but of course, no one answered. It was about six or seven hours before someone came for me."

"Not Malley," Horatio said, doing the math quickly in his head. "At that time, he was here aboard _Indefatigable_, skylarking on deck. In full view of everyone."

"Most likely to provide himself an alibi," Archie agreed. "No, it was three men I'd never seen before. They called me several rather nasty names, and gave me a thrashing, then threw me out into the alley. I finally made my way to the jetty and out here."

"Archie, you must tell the captain this! He will realize that you could not help missing the watch, that you were held captive."

"No, Mr. Hornblower," Archie said quietly. "I cannot."

"Of course you can! Archie, this will fix everything. There will be no flogging, you will be back in the captain's good graces..."

"I will not tell him. Look, if I come forward with this now, it will look as if I am trying to avoid my punishment."

"No - "

"Yes. There were no witnesses, Mr. Hornblower, no one to say that yes, I was locked up and could not get here. The captain will not believe me, and he will look at me with disgust, thinking me a coward. I do not wish that."

"But Archie, surely someone from the Mermaid..."

"No one from the Mermaid actually saw me locked up. The only ones who could verify my story are the three men who took me, and I do not believe they would tell the truth. Do you?"

"No," Horatio said disappointedly. "I fear you are right." He looked at Archie, his own unhappiness shining in his eyes. "Archie, I am so sorry about what you must face tomorrow. I wish there was something I could do."

"There is one thing you can do for me, Mr. Hornblower."

"Anything."

Archie smiled softly at him. "You can be there for me when it is over. I fear I shall need assistance when it is all done."

"Of course I will be there, Archie. I'll always be there for you."

Archie nodded. "Thank you." A silence again filled the air, but it was a comfortable, easy one, with no need for conversation. Eventually, Archie broke the silence.

"Will you tell me something, Mr. Hornblower?"

"If I am able."

"I know that you said you have never been flogged before. My question is - have I?"

Uneasy once again, Horatio looked at Archie. "Why do you ask?"

"It's just that, when I was with Molly, she commented on all these scars I have on my back. Are they from floggings?"

Oh, lord, thought Horatio. Please don't make me tell him how many of those came from Jack Simpson, how they were often the prelude to something so much worse...

"Mr. Hornblower?"

Moving carefully ahead, Horatio spoke slowly. "I do not believe that you were ever ordered flogged by your captain, Archie. I guess it is not something we ever talked about. I do know that there were several canings when you first came aboard _Justinian_, but I do not recall you ever mentioning a flogging. I do know that many of the scars on your back came from beatings and whippings at the hands of the prison guards when you escaped."

"Escaped? Oh, when I was imprisoned after that raid on that French ship, you mean? So it was the frogs who gave me these?"

"Frogs and dagos both, Archie. You were very persistent in your escape attempts, and they were none too happy about it. I imagine you were quite a handful, at least until Don Masserado put you in the oubliette."

"Well, I must say, I'm very grateful I do not remember that part of my life, at least from what you have told me. It sounds to be a very unpleasant experience."

"It was indeed. I do not know how you endured it for an entire month, much less having to come out of there and face the world alone. I was ever so grateful that you were there for me after I was released following only one week."

"As you will be there for me tomorrow."

"I will, Archie. I swear it."

"Yes."

The two friends looked at each other, a long look of understanding, and Horatio felt a stirring of hope. They **were** friends, despite Archie's lost past, friends who would always be there for each other. It was truly amazing, that he had found such a friend after never knowing one, truly wonderful that they could support each other through whatever life chose to throw at them.

"I think perhaps you will need this," he said, going to the door and picking up a canvas bag. "Usually, before a flogging, a man's mates give him a great deal of grog to drink, so that he will not feel the sting of the lash so intently."

"You've brought me grog?"

"Not exactly," Horatio grinned. "It is a bottle of the captain's finest claret."

"Claret?" Archie said, sitting up. "Mr. Hornblower, you stole this from the captain?"

"No, indeed, Archie. This is a gift from the captain himself."

Archie paused and looked up at him, amazed. "The captain sent this?"

Horatio nodded. "He does not want to do this, Archie, but he must. He cannot show favoritism towards any officer, even if he feels it."

Archie was silent for a moment, staring at the bottle in Horatio's hand. "You think he feels favoritism towards me?"

"I know he does," Horatio said fervently. "He knows of the battles you have fought throughout your life, and he knows the one you are waging now. He may be disappointed in what happened, Archie, but he also has faith in you, in your abilities. As do I."

"Thank you," Archie said softly. "That truly means a great deal to me. Mr. Hornblower, you have been very good to me, but I must ask you one more favor."

"Name it."

"Will you stay here tonight, with me? I admit that I fear the morrow, and this will be a long night for me. I should enjoy your company."

"And so you shall have it, Mr. Kennedy," Horatio responded. "Perhaps you could read some of that infernal Shakespeare to me. I might yet develop a tolerance for it."

Archie grinned. "Ah. Hamlet it is."

"No," Horatio groaned. "Not that one."

Archie laughed and opened the book. "Quiet, Mr. Hornblower. Since I do not remember this, we shall learn it together. Would you deny a condemned man his last request?"

Horatio, forced to listen to his friend reading the hated play, was quite tempted to do just that. At least I have a wonderful claret to drown my sorrows in, he thought miserably. Why do I **never** know when to be silent?


	12. Chapter Twelve

****

Chapter Twelve

A cool wind blew across the deck of _Indefatigable_, stirring the shirts and hair of the men now gathering on her deck. Gray skies filled the horizon, and dampness seemed to cover everything. Unusual weather for this time of year, thought Horatio as he walked with Archie to the quarterdeck. Good sign or bad, I wonder.

"It appears the crowd is gathering," Archie said beside him, his voice quiet and small. He was smartly dressed in a clean, pressed uniform, his hair neatly brushed and pulled back in a queue. He showed no aftereffects of all the claret the two of them had consumed the night before, but he was grateful for the steadying effects of it nonetheless.

Horatio turned to him, noting the paleness of his friend's face. "You know it is required of all the men to be here, Archie," he said sympathetically. "The captain debated whether he should do this in private, but decided to do as you wished and grant you no favoritism. The crew will all stand witness."

Archie sighed as he looked around. "I know, Mr. Hornblower," he said. "This must be done as it was for Midshipman Bairnson, and for anyone else who has ever committed the sin of abandoning his station. I want no special treatment."

Lieutenant Bracegirdle came over to them, his normally cheerful face unsmiling and somber. "Good morn, gentlemen," he said, looking compassionately at Archie. "Though not quite so fair, I fear."

"No, Mr. Bracegirdle," Horatio answered. "An unpleasant day for us all, I think."

"Yes," Bracegirdle said sadly. "And now the captain arrives. If you gentlemen will excuse me?" He paused and looked back at Archie. "Be strong, Mr. Kennedy. You will endure this well, I have no doubt."

"Thank you, sir," said Archie softly, and Bracegirdle dipped his head in a small bow, then turned and stood before his captain.

"All is ready?" Pellew said, no hint of inflection in his voice.

"Aye, sir."

"Then turn the hands aft, and punishment shall commence."

Bracegirdle called over Midshipman Masters, and sent him to fetch the bos'uns mate to summon the men. The order was piped for all hands.

"All hands aft!" called Masters. "All men aft!"

A scarlet slice of marines fell into line on the poopdeck, muskets and side-arms to hand, while the midshipmen all gathered together under the break, along with the purser and Dr. Hepplewhite. The seamen fell in where ever they were able, with many of them hoisting themselves up into the masts, all the better to see what was happening.

Archie watched as Horatio and Lt. Bracegirdle joined the other lieutenants on the weather quarterdeck, standing beside Captain Pellew. His eyes met the captain's, and he drew himself up, standing straight and holding his shoulders back. He would show no fear, for this was something he deserved, something he had brought upon himself. The captain would know that he had learned his lesson.

Pellew's eyes held Archie's as he gave his first order. "Rig the gratings."

"Rig the gratings, aye!" said the carpenter, as he and his mates quickly dragged two wooden gratings aft. They laid down one of the gratings upon the deck, then secured the other one upright against the poop railing.

"Gratings rigged, sir!" called the carpenter as his crew retreated to their places.

"Mr. Kennedy, come forward," called the captain. Archie stepped forward and stood before him, his eyes still fixed on Pellew's face.

"Mr. Kennedy. You are charged with willful abandonment of your assigned station. Have you anything to say for yourself, sir?"

"I do not, sir," replied Archie evenly.

"Very well. Strip."

Archie removed his jacket and shirt and dropped them onto the deck, and turned to walk over to the gratings. Facing the upright grating, he held his hands up above his head.

"Seize him up," came Pellew's command, and the quartermasters roughly tied Archie's arms to the grating in front of him. The hard wood pressed against his chest, marking him with lines on front, as he soon would be marked in back.

"Seized up, sir!"

Captain Pellew turned to address the men, removing his hat as he did, all of the men following suit. "Mr. Kennedy is charged with violating the 26th article of the rules of war. This article states 'No person in or belonging to the fleet shall sleep upon his watch or negligently perform the duty imposed on him, or forsake his station," and here he looked straight at Archie, "upon pain of death or such other punishment as a court martial shall think fit to impose, and as the circumstances of the case shall require.' Mr. Kennedy's punishment shall be the execution of thirty-six lashes upon his being."

Horatio, wishing he could block out the rest of the events ahead, watched numbly as the bos'uns mate brought forth the red baize bag which contained the cat. He watched as Taylor, the mate, almost lovingly removed the red-handled cat 'o nine tails, and ran the tails through his fingers. Taylor greatly enjoyed this part of his job, or so Horatio suspected, for he was always more than happy to be the one to administer the lash. He would not hold back, not for anyone. 

Horatio was slightly encouraged to note that Taylor held a reduced cat. Only five tails of smooth whipcord, something that was generally used on the younger men for flogging. It would not be so painful as a full-sized one, and yet would not result in Archie being diminished in the eyes of the men. He stole a glance at Pellew as the captain finished the reading of the Article of War, knowing that it must be the captain's order to use the reduced cat.

"Do your duty," Pellew said firmly. Taylor, grinning, advanced behind Archie.

Archie could hear the footsteps, and knew Taylor stood ready. He closed his eyes, willing himself to remain silent, to show no sign of weakness. The entire ship's company stood watching him, but strangely, it was only for Horatio and Captain Pellew that he wanted to remain strong. They both had faith in him, and he would not let either of them down.

He heard the whistling before he felt the lash, and he instinctively tightened his shoulders. When the blow came, his features twisted with pain, but he did not utter a sound.

"One," said Taylor loudly. He drew the cat back across the deck, and took a moment to untwine the tails. Horatio blanched as he saw blood - Archie's blood - from the cat stain Taylor's hand. Only one done.

The whistling came again, and Archie steeled himself. The cat fell lower this time, wrapping about his back and slashing across his ribs. A small cry came from his throat. It stung, like a dozen angry bees.

"Two."

And so it continued on for two dozen lashes, Archie holding up as best he could, knowing he had to appear strong in front of the men, or all would be lost. He would never be able to lead the men if they could not respect him, and they would never respect a man who could not bear three dozen lashes.

"Twenty-four."

Matthews and Styles, secure on the boom, exchanged a glance. Both had felt the lash on more than one occasion aboard ships other than _Indefatigable_, and they knew the pain Archie was experiencing right now. Both felt sorry for the lad, knowing him as they did, and knowing the even worse things he had endured in his short life.

"Twenty-five."

Oldroyd could scarce bear to be there. He'd never felt the cat himself, not even aboard _Justinian_, and he didn't know how anyone could bear it. He'd always liked Mr. Kennedy, always looked out for him when he could, but now he could do nothing, do nothing but watch as a man he respected, a man who had helped him face his fears on a bridge in France, bore the lash.

"Twenty-six."

Archie pressed harder against the grating in front of him, hoping the pain from that would distract him from the worse pain of the cat. Taylor's aim was true, crossing across the torn and bleeding flesh, and Archie could not contain the cry that issued from him.

"Twenty-seven."

Taylor smiled as he cleaned off the cat. Nice strips of skin were now missing from Mr. Kennedy's back, just the way he liked to see those officers. He loved his job, for this was the only time he was allowed to have the better of those who ordered him around. His favorite part was in between lashes, when he took his time cleaning off the cat, when the victim was dreading the next blow, never knowing when it would come - it was the best way for them to truly experience the pain. For the last half dozen, he would **really** put his back into it.

"Twenty-eight."

Malley poked Fuller in the side. "Ain't that just a purty sight? Kennedy ain't gonna last the whole three dozen, I'll wager."

"How much?" said Fuller with interest.

"Shut the bloody hell up," hissed Haversham. "You two are disgusting."

"Twenty-nine."

The pain was intense now, so bad Archie was scarce able to keep his feet. He sagged a bit, the ropes biting into his wrists, then forced himself to stand straight, dragging himself up by sheer willpower. He would not falter. He would not.

"Thirty."

Horatio heard the cry that escaped Archie, and his hands clenched. God, Taylor would kill him! He didn't remember Taylor being so vicious with Bairnson, but perhaps that was because he was too close to this situation, too close to Archie.

"Thirty-one."

A peculiar numbness began to surround Archie. He still felt the sting of the lash, but the very air around him seemed to be thick, and he was finding it extremely hard to breathe. He struggled to draw a breath, dropping his head back just as Taylor let fly the cat.

"Thirty-two."

The end of the lash caught Archie's now-exposed throat, wrapping briefly around it. The pain was excruciating as the tails bit into the tender skin, and he screamed in agony.

"Thirty-three."

Horatio felt his heart stop as Archie screamed, and he instinctively stepped forward. A gentle hand came to rest on his shoulder, stopping him, and he looked up to see the pale face of Lieutenant Bracegirdle.

"Easy, lad," whispered Bracegirdle. "It's almost finished."

"Thirty-four."

Whitney had been watching in horror the whole time. Tears filled his eyes as he heard Mr. Kennedy cry out yet again. It was his fault that his commanding officer was suffering so, for wasn't it Whitney who had knocked him unconscious? It didn't matter anymore to him what Mr. Kennedy did with Mr. Hornblower - he didn't deserve this. It would have been more merciful to let him hang for what he was.

"Thirty-five."

Hands. Where were these hands coming from? What were they doing to him? And that voice - who was it?

..._"You've been a bad boy, Archie. Time for Jack to punish you. You'll learn, by god, you'll learn to do it my way..."_

"Thirty-six."

Pain. Nothing in the world existed but pain. Archie did not even feel gentle hands untying his wrist, did not feel friendly arms ease him down to the deck. That voice echoed in his head. Jack.

"Horatio?" he whimpered. "Horatio?"

"It's all right, Archie," came Horatio's soothing voice as he brushed Archie's hair from his sweaty face. "I'm here. I'll always be here."

Time passed in a red haze of pain, but Archie was vaguely aware of making his way across the deck, past all the eyes of the men, and down into the hold. He slowly opened his eyes. He was back in sick berth, and the first thing he saw was Horatio's concerned face.

"Over?" he croaked. It hurt to talk. Why did it hurt to talk?  


"Yes, Archie," Horatio soothed, his hand on his friend's shoulder. "It's all over. You did well, Archie. You did well."

"Passed out."

"Not until we got you down here to sick berth, Archie. You were very strong. It was well done."

"Hurts," Archie whispered, his eyes closed against the pain.

Horatio had to smile. "Well, yes, I imagine it does, Mr. Kennedy. Taylor is a brute with the cat, but you bore it very well. You certainly showed Malley."

Archie forced his eyes back open. "Malley?"

Still grinning, Horatio nodded. "Yes, indeed, Archie. He was taking bets that you wouldn't survive one dozen, much less three, but you did. You've made him a very poor man."

"Already was poor excuse for a man," mumbled Archie, his eyes closing again. "Against the articles, gambling. Flog him 'round the fleet, sir. Tired."

"Just a few more stitches here, Mr. Kennedy," said Doctor Hepplewhite, "and then I'll send you on your way. I doubt you'll be sleeping on your back for awhile, though."

Horatio waited while Hepplewhite finished cleaning and stitching Archie's wounds. Archie bore the pain stoically, finally beginning to perk up enough to ask Horatio for some food.

"Are you sure you want some, Archie?" Horatio teased. "You are not overly fond of the food from the ship's stores, you know."

"Well, it's certainly better than starving," Archie grumbled. "Do you suppose there is something for me to eat?"

Horatio chuckled. "I shall go fetch something, Archie, and take it to your cabin. That is, if Dr. Hepplewhite agrees you are all right to leave?"

"Certainly," said Hepplewhite, wiping his hands off on a rough towel. "Mr. Kennedy is just fine. I suggest the wounds be cleaned out periodically, so be certain to return here, and I will take care of it for you."

"Thank you, doctor," said Archie, stealing a glance at Horatio. "But if it is all right with you, I think that I would prefer that Mr. Hornblower change the dressing and clean the wounds in the privacy of my cabin. I do not care for the idea of any of the men possibly coming in here and seeing me like this."

"Very well, Mr. Kennedy," Hepplewhite said with no little surprise. "If that is what you would prefer, and of course, providing Mr. Hornblower agrees, then I can put forth no objection."

Horatio sketched a little bow. "It shall be my honor, Mr. Kennedy." He took Archie's arm, helping him off the bed, and the two of them left the sick berth, Dr. Hepplewhite watching them go. Interesting how the two of them still depended on each other, even with Kennedy's memory gone, he thought as he cleaned up the bloody bandages from the area. It's got to be the best possible medicine for the boy - no one knows him better than Hornblower, no one is better equipped to help him reacquire his memories. I just pray it happens soon.

Horatio helped Archie to settle into his room, and then he went to fetch some food for his friend. He returned to the cabin, to find Archie sitting up on the bed, leafing through his Shakespeare book.

"No, Archie," he said firmly as he closed the door behind him. "I refuse to listen to any more of that blasted Hamlet, especially whilst I am eating. Here. The cook kept one of the best slices of mutton for you. Now eat." He held the plate in front of Archie, who absently reached out and took it. Horatio sat next to Archie on the bed, and they both dug into the plates of food.

"Horatio?"

Horatio, surprised, looked at Archie. This was the first time he had addressed Horatio by his Christian name since the accident, except for immediately after the flogging, when he had been almost incoherent.

"Yes, Archie?" he said carefully.

"Do I know a Jack?"

Horatio froze, the forkful of mutton halfway to his mouth. What in the world had brought that up? Dropping the untasted mutton back to the plate, he said slowly, "Why do you ask that?"

Archie's wide blue eyes regarded him, but Horatio saw no fear, no real recognition there. "Near the end of the flogging, I heard a voice in my head, someone named Jack. It wasn't a voice I recognized, not from recently anyway, but I still felt as if I knew it, as if I knew him. He was saying that I had to learn how to do things his way, that he was going to punish me. Did something like that happen, or was I hallucinating?"

Trying to gain some time, Horatio rose to his feet, placing his still-full plate on top of Archie's sea chest. Dear god, of all the people for Archie to begin recovering his memory with, why did it have to be Jack Simpson?

"Horatio?"

Horatio turned back to face his friend. He couldn't lie and tell Archie he didn't know a Jack, but neither did he have to tell him the whole truth. Tiny steps, he counseled himself. One piece at a time.

"Yes, Archie, you did know a Jack."

Archie's face lit up. "Honestly? Then perhaps my memory is beginning to return! Tell me about him. Are we friends?"

Horatio snorted. "No, no one was friends with Jack Simpson. He was a midshipman aboard the ship we first served on together, _Justinian_. Do you remember her, do you remember Captain Keene? That's where you know Simpson from. He was senior in the mess, and he liked to rule over all the other midshipmen."

"Rule over," Archie mused. "I take it he ruled by force."

"Indeed he did, sir. If someone did not bow to him, he would beat them mercilessly, and try to break their spirit, not to mention how he would take the spirit rations and clean shirts of anyone he pleased. He was not a good man, Archie."

"So, he must have beaten me. That's why the flogging brought back his memory, why I could hear him so vividly in my head. Did he break my spirit?"

Oh, god, thought Horatio, panicked, as he looked frantically around the room. Now what do I do? Do I lie to him, do I tell him what Jack really did to him? He's not ready for that, not yet. I cannot do it. He turned back to Archie.

"Archie, I do not believe that anyone could break your spirit. Jack Simpson is dead and gone, and I believe we should focus on your remembering other, more pleasant people that you have met throughout our time together. Now there was an Army officer we knew, a Major Edrington. Stuffy chap, wore a bright red jacket and rode one of those infernal horses - does that sound familiar?"

Archie shook his head. "No, not at all. But Jack Simpson - even the name feels familiar. It's almost as if I remember him being here, being with us. There's something, Horatio, something that is right there, at the front of my brain, trying to get out. I know it has to do with Jack."

"Archie, please, let it go. Neither one of us cares to remember Jack and his beatings. How about Lieutenant - "

"Not beatings," Archie said, shaking his head, and Horatio's heart stopped. "Not beatings but something else, something different..." His brow was furrowed as he concentrated on bringing forth the memory, his eyes fixed on the blanket covering his bed.

"Perhaps it is the duel you remember. A foolish thing, but - "

"No." Archie's head shot up and his eyes met Horatio's. "Not a duel. An inquisition! That's it!" Archie stood up and paced around the tiny cabin, his excitement growing, his words tumbling over themselves. "He called it an inquisition, but it was more than that, more than just a beating. He would, he would..." He stopped and turned to face Horatio. "Dirty little secret. He wanted to find out everyone's dirty little secret, so he could own us, so he could lord over us. Horatio, I remember! I remember him sitting there, he was doing something, he was angry - it was you! You were newly arrived, and Jack wanted to find out your secret, but you, you wouldn't let him. He was angry. He yelled at me. But it was YOU who stood up to him! You fought, but Jack had you held down." Archie was pacing again, his energy barely contained in the small space. "He won, didn't he, though he never found out any secret. I reckon you didn't have one. And when the other two midshipmen took you off to sick berth, Jack, he, he came looking for me. He was so furious that he, he..." Archie's voice trailed off. "I don't remember what he did."

Finally able to breathe again, Horatio nodded at his friend. He knew what Jack had done to Archie that night to dispel his rage, though he had not known it at the time. He'd been too busy feeling sorry for himself and thinking on his own death, to notice how quiet and withdrawn his formerly ebullient friend had become. God, he'd been so blind. He'd been so wrapped up in himself that he had never noticed Archie falling apart before his very eyes.

"I think this is wonderful, Archie, that you are remembering so much. However, I think it best that you try not to force anything. Let it be for now, and tomorrow, we can try to help you remember other, more pleasant things. Perhaps our first days here aboard the _Indy_, when everything was young and new, and we were so excited to be aboard a frigate, with a famous captain. We can speak of Clayton, and tell tales of Lieutenant Eccleston and Lieutenant Chadd, or perhaps I can remind you of one or two of your sweethearts back in England."

"Sweethearts?" Archie asked curiously. "Do I have a special sweetheart?"

Horatio laughed, glad that Archie's attention was away from black Jack Simpson and his evil games. "Not one in particular, Archie, though there have been several. No one for quite awhile, though."

"Too bad," Archie sighed. "Maybe she could have helped me recall something more."

Feigning hurt, Horatio leaned back against the bulkhead. "You think some female could do better than I? Sir, I am insulted!"

Archie grinned as he retook his seat upon the bed. "No offense, Horatio, but I think it would be much more fun to explore my past with a soft, feminine figure at my side." He leaned back, grimacing as his back touched the bulkhead, and he immediately sat forward. "Ouch."

"Oh, Archie," Horatio said with compassion. "Is the pain so bad?"

"It's tolerable," Archie said slowly, "as long as I do not press it against anything." He motioned to a small bottle resting against his sea chest. "Dr. Hepplewhite gave me some laudanum, to help me sleep. Would you fetch it for me, please?"

Horatio rose to his feet, and returned to Archie's side with the drug. "Be careful how you use this, Archie," he said as Archie removed the cap and took a drink. "It can be quite dangerous if too much is taken."

Archie made a face as he replaced the cap on the bottle. "Who would want to take much of that? It's bloody awful, almost as bad as that watery gruel I ate."

Horatio laughed as he took the bottle and placed it back on the floor. "That is a good thing, Archie. That way you will not be tempted to overuse it." He stood over Archie's bed, looking down at his friend. "Why don't you get some rest, Mr. Kennedy. I'll check back on you later, but now I need to be on deck. Will you be all right?"

"I'll be fine, Horatio," Archie said with a yawn. "I think I shall sleep like the dead. Thank you for your assistance, sir. I much appreciate it."

"Anytime, Archie," Horatio said as he watched his friend drift off to sleep. "Anything I can do to help you through this..." He left the cabin, quietly closing the door behind him, and headed up on deck.

****


	13. Chapter Thirteen

****

Chapter Thirteen

Horatio nodded to his men as he paced the deck, watching as repairs continued to the _Indy_. It was still a gray, gloomy day, the dampness seeping into his bones, and he pulled his peacoat closer around his body as he paced the deck. Repairs appeared to be going well, he thought as he inspected the riggings. Another several days, and we should be out to sea again. Not soon enough for me, he thought with a sigh. I would much rather be out doing something than sitting around this harbor.

"Mr. Hornblower."

Horatio turned around and came to attention. "Captain Pellew, sir."

Pellew nodded to him as he placed a hand on the rigging, giving it a firm tug. Satisfied, he moved around the mast, missing no detail of repair work. Horatio watched him for a moment.

"Repairs seem to be going very well," he finally said. "Perhaps we shall make Gibraltar and then London after all."

"Hmm," was all Pellew said as he continued his inspection.

"The men have been working very hard, sir," said Horatio, trying to think of something intelligent to say. "Perhaps they could use some extra shore leave when all is done."

Pellew swung around to face him, his eyes narrowing as he looked at his lieutenant. "You think that necessary, sir?"

Horatio squirmed just a little. "I do not think it would hurt, sir. Especially after what they witnessed this morning..."

Pellew shrugged and turned away. "What they witnessed was nothing they have not seen before, and no doubt will see again."

"Yes, sir, but to witness a man beaten is never a pleasant thing."

"It is the life of a sailor, Mr. Hornblower, and you would do well to remember that. There will come a time in your life, sir, when you must mete out the same punishment to one of your own, so you had best become accustomed to it now. As for the men who witnessed it, a great many of them enjoy it. It is a form of entertainment for them."

"It's barbaric," Horatio muttered without thinking, and Pellew turned on him.

"I beg your pardon?" he said, his voice icy. "Are you questioning my method of discipline, Mr. Hornblower?"

"No, sir," said Horatio. "I know that it is the captain's decision. It just seems a little...inhumane, sir."

"It is what it is," said Pellew, dismissing it. "Sailors have been beaten since time immemorial, and they will continue to be beaten as long as they abandon their duty."

"Aye, sir," answered Horatio.

Pellew threw him a glance, as if he realized that Horatio was not acceding to him because he believed Pellew to be right, but because he was merely deferring to his captain. The boy would find out someday just how hard these things actually were, and he would realize that no captain would ever let it show how much it bothered him to assign such a punishment. No weakness before the men...

Pellew turned back to the rigging, following the lines up to the fighting top. "How is he?" he asked quietly. No weakness, but compassion.

Horatio shot him a surprised look. "He is quite well, sir."

Pellew nodded. "I am glad to hear it, Mr. Hornblower. It is not an easy thing, and Mr. Kennedy bore it well."

"Aye, sir, he did," Horatio replied softly.

"Very well," said Pellew, a little louder. "Carry on, Mr. Hornblower."

Horatio smiled as he turned back to the repairs. He'd always respected Captain Pellew for the fine commanding officer he was, but there were rare times when he glimpsed the man behind the captain, something that very few of the men got to see. His feeling of responsibility toward his men ran very deep, even if he was forced to discipline them in an unpleasant manner occasionally. Horatio had long ago vowed that when he became captain, he would follow Pellew's example, and count himself fortunate if he could be but half the leader Pellew was. It was a lofty goal, indeed.

Pellew turned back to Horatio. "Lieutenant."

"Aye, sir?"

"Please remind Mr. Kennedy that he has the forenoon watch tomorrow. I should hate to have to have him at the gratings again."

"Aye, sir," said Horatio, a slight grin tugging at his lips. Pellew was letting Archie back on watch immediately - that was good. It meant that the episode was over and done with in Pellew's mind, not to be spoken of again.

The next few days flew by in a flurry of activity as the _Indy_ was repaired. Horatio found that he couldn't help but keep an eye on Archie as he continued to reintegrate himself back into life aboard the ship, but he soon found it wasn't necessary. Archie had lost nothing in the eyes of the men, had lost none of their respect or willingness to follow him. Of course, there were always the exceptions. Malley and Fuller. Their dislike of Archie was as evident as ever, and Malley never lost an opportunity to remind Archie of his trip to the gratings. His favorite trick was to wait until Archie was bending over, and then he would manage to drop something on his back - never anything too heavy, but heavy enough to cause Archie pain. Somehow, Archie still managed to keep his temper around the two of them, though Horatio could never figure out how. He'd have dealt with the two insubordinate sailors ages ago.

"That's it. Swing it slowly, now!"

That was Archie's voice, and Horatio turned to watch him. The new gun was being brought aboard to replace the one that had been destroyed in the battle, the one that had blown and caused Archie's injury. Archie and his men were settling it into position, and Horatio watched idly. Archie knew his guns better than anyone else aboard, and he was as excited as a child with a new toy, he noted with a smile. Pellew had discovered Archie's talent for gunnery soon after their final return from El Ferrol, and Archie had flourished when placed in command of the guns. 

As he watched, his thoughts drifted back to the battle with _Intrépide_, and Archie's resulting memory loss. The gun had blown, releasing something that had hit Archie in the head, and his whole world had turned around. What if he hadn't been standing in the spot he had been? What if…

Horatio's thoughts trailed off and then came to a stop. There was something wrong in that statement, something off. What was it? He concentrated, remembering the details of that day. Smoke drifting across the deck. Cries of wounded men. _Intrépide_ sinking. Walters at his side. The fear in his gut when he saw it was Archie's gun.

…_He weren't next to the gun when it went, sir - I seen _'_im helpin' Haversham to _'_is feet. It happened later, sir_…

Later. Why the bloody hell hadn't he seen this before? The gun was already blown when Archie had been knocked to the deck. It hadn't been the gun at all. It had to have been something else. Something - no, only one thing. A deliberate attack upon Archie, a blow struck by someone who hoped everyone would assume that it had happened during battle. And that was exactly what **had** happened.

Malley. It was his first thought. Either Malley or Fuller, or both of them working in tandem. There was no one else who hated Archie like they did, no one else who would want to cause him harm. It had to be them. Damn them. He'd see them hang for this.

But how was he to prove it? Neither man would ever admit to it, and no doubt they would alibi each other. Archie would have no idea, no memory of the incident. If Walters had seen anything, he would have spoken up immediately. It would only be Horatio's suspicions against Malley and Fuller's word.

But was he jumping to conclusions here? What if it had been something else that struck Archie, something else that had been flying through the air during battle? It was very possible that it **had** been an accident, and Malley and Fuller were not involved.

"Good work, men," said Archie. Horatio watched him as he inspected the gun, running his hand down the barrel, almost lovingly. The men, wiping the sweat from their faces, stood back.

"She's a beauty, sir," said Walters, and Archie nodded in agreement.

"She is, indeed," he said with a note of pride in his voice. "All right, men. That's it for now. Go have your meal, or take a rest, and we'll finish up later."

Talking amongst themselves, the men began to head to the waist. Horatio followed them.

"Walters," he called.

Walters stopped, the others giving Horatio a curious look, but continuing on their way. Walters made his way back to Horatio.

"Aye, sir?"

Horatio drew him aside, apart from any listeners who might pass by. "Walters, I need to ask you a question about the day Mr. Kennedy was injured."

"Yes, sir?"

"You said Mr. Kennedy was not injured when the gun blew. Do you remember anything else, anything at all that you might have seen?"

Frowning, Walters looked at him. "Seen? Like what, sir?"

"Anyone else who was standing near Mr. Kennedy before he fell."

Walters considered carefully. "Just Haversham, sir. Mr. Kennedy seen the ball comin' in, and some loose powder 'round the gun, so 'e got us all away from her. It blew, and we all landed on the deck. I got to my feet, and seen Whitney gettin' up next to Fuller. Seems Malley was behind me - 'e hightailed it pretty quick when that shot come in."

"So Malley was behind you," Horatio said, disappointedly. 

"Near as I can figgur, sir. Not that 'e stayed there for long - 'e took off somewhere right quick. No, right after it happened, Haversham was closest to Mr. Kennedy. Seems they had a few words as 'e was draggin' Haversham to 'is feet."

"Words?" Horatio said sharply.

"Yes, sir. Mr. Kennedy kinda grinned at 'im, you know, like 'e does when 'e's teasin' ya, but Haversham was pretty mad. I think if 'e'd had a weapon to hand, 'e'd of killed Mr. Kennedy, right then and there."

"Thank you, Walters," Horatio said, his mind working furiously. "Go enjoy your meal."

"Aye, sir," Walters said, his eyes lighting up. "One good thing 'bout being stuck here - the victuals is at least worth eatin'." He laughed and went to join his mates, and Horatio began to pace the deck again.

Haversham. He'd never considered the man, but really, what did they know about him? He was a fair sailor, but not overly devoted to duty. He was a charmer with the ladies, but as for his origins and even his temperament, no one knew. While he seemed perfectly happy to go drink in a pub with his shipmates, he was more likely to leave them for the company of a young lady or two. He never spoke of family or anything outside the ship, as far as Horatio knew. He'd willingly joined the navy, and _Indefatigable_ was his first and only ship so far. And that was all that was known about him.

Was he violent? Could he have deliberately struck Archie, hoping to kill or severely injure him? What would be his motive? I don't know, mused Horatio. But it certainly will be interesting to find out.

He'd start with Archie and ask him some questions. Little things were coming back to him, bits and pieces of memory, so maybe he'd remember something about the accident, maybe if he tried, he could recall what he and Haversham had been discussing. He turned to find his friend, but stopped as he caught sight of him.

Archie was deep in discussion with Captain Pellew. The captain, hands clasped behind his back in the familiar pose, was speaking, and Archie was nodding his head. Not wanting to disturb them, Horatio waited unobtrusively on the quarterdeck for the captain to finish.

"Mr. Hornblower, a moment if you please, sir," called Pellew.

"Aye," said Horatio, turning and going to stand with his captain and Archie. "What may I do for you, sir?"

"It is not what you may do for me, sir, but what I may do for you."

"Sir?"

"Shore leave, Mr. Hornblower," the captain said heartily. "For you and all the officers and even myself, as well as the men from your division. Beginning immediately."

"Aye, aye, sir," Horatio said with a grin. This would be a fine chance to speak to Archie about the time of the accident. The time for his lieutenant's exam drew near, and it would be wonderful for Archie to have his complete memory back at that point. "Mr. Kennedy, I have an idea to help you…"

Pellew was shaking his head. "Forgive me, Mr. Hornblower. I misspoke. Mr. Kennedy will not be going ashore."

"Not going ashore, sir?" said Horatio. "Is he still under punishment, then?"

"On the contrary, sir. I am leaving Mr. Kennedy in command of _Indefatigable_."

Horatio looked at Archie, who had a wide grin upon his cherubic face. "Fine news, is it not, Mr. Hornblower?" he said happily. This was a grand show of confidence in the young acting lieutenant, and Horatio was just as pleased as Archie.

"Aye, Mr. Kennedy, it is indeed. I shall be certain sure that all the men raise a tot of rum to you tonight."

Archie laughed easily. "Hardly necessary, Mr. Hornblower. We are still at anchor in the harbor, after all, not sailing the seas with the frogs on our tail, trying to sink us. Still, it is a fine opportunity, and I thank the captain."

"You are welcome, Mr. Kennedy," Pellew said with a small smile. The lad was so happy with such small steps forward. "I believe you have proven yourself capable of taking on this responsibility. However," and he fixed a stern gaze on Archie, "if she is damaged in any way, or if you manage to sink her here in the harbor, there will be no place on earth for you to hide from me. Understood?"

"Aye, sir," said Archie fighting back a grin, while Horatio looked appalled. "I shall endeavor to do my best, sir. If she sinks, I go with her."

"See that you do, Mr. Kennedy," Pellew said, trying to keep a straight face at the look on Hornblower's face. "See that you do." He smiled at Archie. "Your best will be more than enough, Mr. Kennedy, I have no doubt. The ship is yours, sir."

Archie and Horatio watched as the captain was piped off ship, and then Horatio turned to Archie, a worried look on his face.

"Perhaps I should stay aboard, Archie, just in case."

"Horatio," Archie said, his voice quiet but firm. "If I am to prove myself, I must do it by myself, not with you looking over my shoulder all the time. I believe the captain ordered you ashore, sir." He gave Horatio a gentle push. "Now, go have fun. Find a pretty girl. Get drunk. The _Indy_ will be safe in my care, I assure you."

Archie watched his friend as he reluctantly left, then turned to take care of his duties. He would take fine care of the _Indy_, treating her as delicately as if she were a fair maiden to woo. Captain Pellew would have no reason to be disappointed in him again.

"It ain't fair," grumbled a voice from the waist, and Archie sighed. Malley. Was the man **ever** happy?

"Well, look at it this way, Malley," came Haversham's drawl. "Maybe we didn't get to go ashore, but we practically have the whole ship to ourselves. Not a lot of duty to keep us busy, either."

"Don't give a rat's arse," complained Malley as they came up on deck. "I wanna go ashore like ever'body else. It ain't right we gotta stay here just cuz Kennedy gotta be aboard. He ain't our keeper."

"Sure he is," said Haversham. "He's in charge of our division, isn't he? We had time ashore, Malley - let some of your mates have fun. We can find something to keep us entertained, don't you think?"

"Yeah," grumbled Malley. "How 'bout beatin' on an officer." He snickered. "Sure would be easy pickin', wouldn't it?"

"Not if you wish to keep yourselves from the gratings," Archie said easily, coming up behind them. "And I can tell you from experience, it is not an enjoyable way to spend your time."

Malley glared contemptuously at him, and Haversham's face closed up, any emotion disappearing behind a mask of indifference. But Archie caught a flicker of something in his eyes before Haversham looked away, and he wondered what was going through the man's mind.

"Aye, sir," said Haversham. "I don't imagine it is."

"Look, Kennedy," Malley began.

"**SIR**!" Archie exploded, sick to death of Malley's insubordination, his eyes sparking blue fire even in the growing darkness. "You'll call me sir, Malley, or by god, I'll flog you at the gratings myself." Malley opened his mouth, but Haversham quickly took his arm and pulled him back.

"He didn't mean anything, Mr. Kennedy, sir," said Haversham. "He's just a tad bit unhappy that he didn't get shore leave, that's all it is."

Archie turned a hard gaze to Haversham. "You and I both know it is more than that, Mr. Haversham," Archie said, trying to unclench his teeth. "Mr. Malley had best decide quickly whether he can work with me, or whether he would prefer his life end early, so that the rest of us may move on and serve our country and our King without his constant interruptions." With that, Archie turned on his heel and moved forward, leaving no time for either Malley or Haversham to respond. He'd had it with the big sailor. Things were going to come to a head soon if he didn't stop it now, and Archie had bigger things to worry about than Malley.

Not a whole lot bigger, he thought wryly. At least, not **physically** bigger, anyway. He sighed and turned back to walk the deck. Captain Pellew had trusted him to protect his beloved _Indefatigable_, and Archie intended to do just that. He'd watch over her as if she were his sweetheart. Besides - they were just sitting here in Portsmouth harbor. What could possibly go wrong?


	14. Chapter Fourteen

****

Chapter Fourteen

Darkness covered the deck of _Indefatigable_ as she gently rocked at anchor. Stars lit the heavens, their faint glow lighting the spotless deck of the ship, washing everything with a gossamer glint of silver, while the full moon kept a watchful eye over her. Aboard her, silent wraiths also kept watch, quietly performing their rituals that kept the ship afloat, striving not to disturb those who might rest below them.

Archie paced the deck, watching. So far tonight everything had gone as planned, nice and smooth. Once Malley and Fuller had gone below, tension abovedeck had eased, and the few remaining crew members had gone about their duties, content in the knowledge that all was well aboard ship. The others were having a meal below, prepared for them by the cook's assistant, as even the cook had been allowed to go ashore for his pleasure this time. Captain Pellew should be returning in a few hours, thought Archie, and he'll see that he can still trust me. I'll not fail him again.

As he turned aft again, preparing to make another trip around deck, he stopped. What was that smell? Food from the galley? Or...

"The ship's on fire!" came a scream from down below, and the sounds of panic filled the air. Men came running up on deck, yelling and cursing, the smell of fear even stronger than that of the smoke, as they shoved their crewmates out of the way in order to save their own skins.

Archie raced over to the hatchway, his heart pounding. The greatest fear of a sailor at sea aboard a wooden ship was fire. Even though they were lying at anchor in the harbor, it still created panic.

"Hold, men," he called, his voice carrying over the din of the frightened men. The men, terrified, kept pushing and shoving their way to the railing. Fear and terror were in their eyes and in the very air itself, overcoming what would be their natural inclination to save their ship.

"Hold, damn you!" roared Archie as he grabbed at fleeing seamen, holding them back. Walters appeared at his side.

"It started b'lowdeck, sir!" he yelled over the din.

"Did you see where?" Archie yelled back.

Walters shook his head. "Didn't see nothin' sir, jus' smelled the smoke."

"All right," said Archie. "Get your men to the fire buckets, and get some water down there. Check the galley first."

"Aye, aye, sir!" said Walters as he dashed off, grabbing Whitney and Haversham as he passed them. "Come on men, the ship's in danger!"

Archie spun around to take in the chaos reigning over the deck. Luckily, since there were so few crewmen left aboard, it should be easy to evacuate, if that became absolutely necessary. However, he had no intention of doing that. Trying not to breathe in the smoke that now was floating over the deck of the _Indy_, he ordered the men to beat to quarters, the drum quickly sounding over the quarterdeck where he stood. His eyes took in the sight of several young sailors, yard and stay-tackles in their hands, preparing to lower the boats.

"You men," he called, his voice echoing commandingly across the deck. The men stopped and looked at him, fear on their faces. "Put that down. We are not abandoning the _Indy_."

"But sir!" cried a young midshipman. "We'll die, we'll all die here! Burned up alive, sir! I don't wanna die like that!"

"No one is going to die," said Archie, his voice strong and confident. "Not as long as we all work together. If every man here will do his duty, we can save our ship." He took the stay-tackles out of their hands and returned them to their proper place. "Now each of you help Walters in fetching water. We'll put this fire out."

The men, inspired by Archie's self-confidence and complete lack of fear, did as they were told. Soon a line of fire buckets and waist-hammocks, soaked overboard and brought back up, was run down into the galley. Archie stripped off his jacket, rolled up his shirtsleeves and pitched in, keeping bucket after bucket of water moving. Still, the smoke poured up the hatchway, choking the men on the line.

Archie took a moment to wipe the sweat and soot from his forehead, and glanced around. What he saw made his blood boil. All the men were working feverishly, putting their lives on the line to save their ship, but over there was Malley, perched on the railing, preparing to jump overboard. Furious, Archie strode across the deck.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, Malley?" he roared.

Malley looked up at him. "Ain't gonna die here, not burnin' up like some piece o' meat that got left on too long. I'm gettin' outta here."

"No, you're not," Archie ordered. "Now get back here, or I'll have you charged with desertion."

"Ain't desertion," Malley said as he threw his leg over the railing. "Called self-pres'vation."

"For god's sake, Malley," Archie said with disgust. "You can't even swim. Now get back here."

"Rather drown than burn," Malley argued, preparing to jump.

Swearing under his breath, Archie grabbed the man's arm. "I'll not let you do either, you great fool," he said, dragging him forward. "Now get back here and..."

"NO!" Malley cried, wrenching his arm from Archie's grasp. As it tore lose, he lost his balance, teetering on the rail, his arms windmilling wildly, then fell over, to land with a splash in the water beside _Indefatigable_.

"Help!" he cried, his arms flailing above him. "Can't swim! Help!"

"Bloody hell," swore Archie as he gazed in disbelief. Was the man really that stupid? Cursing the idiocy of the sailor, he climbed atop the railing, then smoothly dove into the water.

*****

Captain Sir Edward Pellew leaned back in his chair, blotting his mouth with his napkin. Across the table from him, his first lieutenant did the same.

"A fine meal, aye, sir?" Bracegirdle said happily.

"It was indeed, Mr. Bracegirdle," replied Pellew. "It is a rare treat for the two of us to be able to dine together ashore, and it has been most enjoyable. Perhaps it is something we should attempt more often."

"Yes, sir," agreed Bracegirdle with a smile. "And you've nothing to fear with young Kennedy at the _Indy_'s helm, sir. She's in good hands."

"I have no doubt of that," replied Pellew as he dug in his pocket for some coins. "In fact, I think we should take our time and have a nice glass of claret to top off this fine meal. I seem to have misplaced a bottle of my best aboard ship."

"Captain Pellew, sir!"

Pellew and Bracegirdle looked up, to see the sailing master, Mr. Bowles, hurrying across the room. Exchanging looks, the two men watched him make his way to them.

"Begging your pardon, sir," Bowles said breathlessly. "But there is a problem."

"What sort of problem, Mr. Bowles?"

Looking around at the other diners, Bowles lowered his head and whispered in his captain's ear. Bracegirdle watched with alarm as Pellew's face completely drained of color. 

"Good god!" Pellew said, rising instantly to his feet. He took off, Bracegirdle and Bowles trailing after him.

"Mr. Bowles!" whispered Bracegirdle as they exited the building and headed toward the dock. "What has happened?"

Bowles regarded him gravely. "The worst thing you could imagine, sir." He gestured toward the harbor, and Bracegirdle turned to see, his insides instantly turning to stone as he saw the smoke drifting across the water.

__

Indefatigable was burning.

*****

"No, Mr. Kennedy!" It was Walters, just arrived at the rail in time to see Archie's dive over the railing.

Archie surfaced, shaking his head to get his wet hair out of his eyes. Looking around, he could see no sign of Malley, could hear no panicked cries. Damn. He'd gone down. He took a deep breath and dove under.

It was black, so black he couldn't see a thing. The lanterns from the _Indy_ didn't penetrate below the waterline, and he couldn't even make out his own hands in front of him, much less have hope of spotting a body. At least the water wasn't cold, he thought. Blindly, he swam toward where he had last seen Malley, keeping his hands out in front of him in hopes of stumbling across him. Lungs bursting and crying for air, he kept searching with no results, until he began to feel woozy. Pushing himself to the surface, he drank in a huge gasp of air.

"Mr. Kennedy!" Walters cried in relief, as he and Haversham bent over the railing.

"Walters!" Archie called up to him. "Can you see him anywhere? Can you see Malley?"

"No, sir!"

"Get a rope," Archie ordered. "I'm going back to look some more." Taking as deep a breath as he could, Archie once more dove below the surface, following the path where he knew the slight current ran. Malley was big, he couldn't have drifted far, not in this small current. Desperately, Archie searched, his lungs bursting, his head feeling as if it was about to explode. He'd not lose a man like this.

Complete darkness threatened to overcome him, when his outstretched hand bumped something. Wanting to cry with relief, he grabbed hold of the shirt, pulling the two of them to the surface. They broke water just aft of the _Indy_, both men coughing and sputtering.

"Here, sir!" called Walters, throwing the rope to them. Archie, his arm still wrapped around Malley's massive chest, grabbed it and tied it under the near-unconscious man's arms. Haversham and Walters, with the help of a few other men, pulled him up to safety, Archie climbing up after them.

Malley collapsed on the deck, and Archie, completely exhausted, took a minute to lean back against the rail. When he was finally able to catch his breath, he called to Walters.

"The fire?" he asked.

"It's out, sir," answered Walters. "Mostly in the galley, jus' like you said. Weren't no need for no one to go jumpin' overboard." He glanced at Malley, a grin lighting his face. Malley glared at him, then turned his gaze to Archie, pure hatred blazing from his eyes.

Archie ignored him. "Very well, men, let's get this cleaned up, and then I want to find out just exactly how this happened."

"Well, sir, there's somethin' you might wanna do first," Walters said slowly.

Archie quirked an eyebrow. "And that would be?"

Walters nodded toward the shore, and Archie turned to look. A groan escaped him as he saw a shore boat headed toward them, the oarsmen rowing as if the devil himself were on their heels. In the bright moonlight, the gold-striped lapels and white vest on Pellew's uniform shown brightly.

"Thank you, Walters," he said as the boat drew aside the ship. "Have him piped aboard."

"Aye, sir," said Walters with a grin. Mr. Kennedy may be uneasy about what had just happened, but Walters knew that if Mr. Kennedy had not kept his head about him, had not been calm and professional and in charge, the _Indy_ would be a smoking hulk right now. He'd taken charge so easily and led men who were frightened to death, to do their duty, and Walters was very proud of him. And then he'd gone and risked his life to save the life of a man who despised him, a man who would most likely have let Archie drown if the roles had been reversed. If Mr. Kennedy would not speak up for himself to the captain, Walters fully intended to. He owed it to him.

Archie stood at attention as Pellew was piped on board, followed by Bracegirdle and Bowles. Well, he'd enjoyed his time in the Navy, at least what he remembered of it. He only hoped he'd get a chance to say goodbye to Horatio before Pellew killed him.

Pellew stood in front of him, staring at the young acting lieutenant. "Mr. Kennedy," he began, his voice rough. "You are dripping upon my quarterdeck."

Archie glanced down, for the first time noticing how soaking wet he was. His frilly white shirt was torn, revealing his powerful chest, which glistened with water in the moonlight. His blue trousers clung to his strong thighs, and somewhere along the line he'd managed to lose his shoes. They're probably at the bottom of the harbor, he thought mournfully. I expect I shall be joining them presently.

"My apologies, sir," he said, meeting Pellew's eyes.

"You're out of uniform as well, sir," continued Pellew. He could see that the fire had been extinguished, so he could spend a little time dressing down his officer of the watch. His mouth quirked in a tiny smile. Kennedy was already half undressed - it wouldn't take much.

"Aye, sir," Archie said unhappily. Nothing to do but face it, he told himself, squaring his shoulders. "I regret that _Indefatigable_ suffered a fire aboard in your absence, sir. I take full responsibility."

"Do you, Mr. Kennedy," Pellew said, raising an eyebrow. "And did you start the fire?"

"No, sir, but it happened on my watch, sir. That makes it my responsibility."

"And just how did it start, Acting-Lieutenant Kennedy?" He put a little stress on the first part of Archie's title, and Archie flinched a bit.

"I have not yet discovered the cause, sir."

"Then do so, sir, and report to me in my cabin. We'll discuss it then." With that, Pellew turned and walked the length of _Indefatigable_, inspecting the deck and sails. Archie's mouth dropped open slightly as he watched him leave.

Bracegirdle leaned in close to him. "I suggest you close your mouth and do as you are told, Mr. Kennedy. Captain Pellew does not care for dawdlers."

Archie snapped his mouth shut, and turned to look at the other two men. "I expected him to heave me overboard with an anchor around my chest."

Bracegirdle and Bowles laughed. "Oh, he will, Mr. Kennedy," Bowles chuckled, "if you do not present your findings to him quickly."

"Aye, aye," Archie said, throwing Bracegirdle a quick salute and disappearing down below. The two men watched him go, then began making their own inspections of any damage to the _Indy_.

It was negligible, thankfully. There had been much more smoke than fire, and there was nothing that the carpenter and his mates could not quickly repair. There was some damage to the fore, and the boom-cloths were demolished, and the beams in the galley charred, but overall, it had looked to be much worse than it actually was. Fire had gotten up to the main deck, but it had been extinguished before it caused any great damage to the masts or the sails. Word was sent ashore to all the crew to return to their stations, and the men began straggling in, some complaining, but all glad to see that the _Indy_ and her crew were all right.

Archie spent time in the galley, calming down the frightened cook's mate and trying to discover just what exactly had happened. It took some time, but eventually he was able to come up with a probable scenario, and he headed to the captain's cabin, after taking a short detour to change into a more presentable uniform. All too soon for his comfort, he stood outside Pellew's door. Smoothing his uniform one last time, he knocked on the door.

"Come," barked Pellew.

Archie entered and stood at attention before him. "Acting Lieutenant Kennedy reporting as ordered, sir."

"Your findings, Mr. Kennedy?"

"The fire started in the galley, sir. Apparently, a kettle of pitch was left to warm on the fire, but whoever put it there neglected to notify the cook's mate that it was to be watched carefully. He was out serving some of the men, and the pitch boiled over into the fire. The mate smelled the smoke and ran back into the galley. Not aware of what had started the fire, he threw a bucket of water on it, which of course caused the pitch to fly out, where it landed on some nearby rags and started the fire."

"A plausible explanation, sir," Pellew said as he faced Archie. "An unfortunate series of incidents, aided by an inexperienced cook's mate."

"I don't believe him to be completely at fault, sir," Archie said. "He had never been left alone before, and was not informed of the presence of the pitch."

"You do not think he should be punished, then."

"No, sir," Archie said emphatically. "Even though he was frightened near to death, he never left his post, and in fact stayed there at great personal risk. The fire would never have been extinguished without his help, sir."

"Very well, Mr. Kennedy. We shall put it down to an accident and be done with it. There was no serious damage to the ship, after all."

"Thank you, sir," Archie said gratefully. "If that's all, sir, I'll just go help with the repairs the carpenter is doing."

"No, Mr. Kennedy, that is not all."

"Sir?"

Pellew faced him, his face stern. "A serious charge has been leveled against you, sir."

"Charge, sir? What sort of charge?"

"You have been charged with attempting to drown a seaman by pushing him over the side."

Astounded, Archie could only stare at Pellew for a moment. "Drown?" he finally asked, disbelieving. "You speak of Malley, sir?"

"I do," Pellew nodded. "He came to see me while you were inspecting the damage."

"Sir, I swear to you, I did not push him over the side. He was on the railing, sir, and I attempted to help him back safely to the deck, when he overbalanced and fell. I did not push him into the water."

"And would you admit it if you did?" Pellew's voice was sharp.

Archie's chin came up. "I'll not lie, sir, there have been times when I wished to push him overboard, for the good of the ship. If I had done such a thing, I would tell you so. And I am not lying now when I tell you he fell."

Pellew dipped his head for a moment. There was such passion in Archie's voice right now, such authority, and just for a moment, he wondered if the man that Archie Kennedy had become since his accident could be capable of pushing a man overboard in order to protect his ship. It was an interesting question, and one he would take time to consider. Someday.

"Very well, Mr. Kennedy. I have already heard the true accounting of the incident from Seaman Walters. He spoke of your heroism in saving Mr. Malley, who apparently fell overboard during all the confusion."

Archie smiled slightly. Walters. A good man, he thought warmly. I was well blessed to have him in my division.

"So, Mr. Kennedy," Pellew said as he turned to face the skylight, hands clasped behind his back as he looked at Archie out of the corner of his eye. "Your ship afire, the men in panic and confusion, sailors falling overboard - quite an eventful evening for you."

"Aye, sir," Archie said dryly. "Not exactly what I was hoping for to restore your faith in me."

"Oh, Mr. Kennedy," Pellew said softly, looking out into the night. "My faith has been restored a hundredfold. Walters told me of your cool-headedness in the face of what could have been a disaster, your leadership in inspiring and calming the men. He spoke of great skill and courage and a resolute leadership, one that inspired the men to follow you without question." He turned to face Archie. "It was well done, sir, very well done. And you have my gratitude for saving my ship."

"Thank you, sir," Archie said with wonder at receiving such high praise from his captain. "I was merely doing my duty."

"And doing it damn well, sir," said Pellew brusquely. "Now you go and get some rest. I'll expect you on the forenoon watch, as usual."

"But sir, I had planned on assisting the carpenter…"

"Mr. Kennedy," Pellew said with a trace of irritation. "That was not a request."

Archie swallowed. "Aye, sir," he said, tendering a crisp salute. "Rest it is, sir." He left Pellew's cabin, breathing a sigh of relief. Everything had happened so quickly that evening that he had not had a moment to feel fear, but now it was beginning to hit him just how close they had come to losing the ship, to suffering a loss of lives that he had been responsible for. What if he had not been able to stop the men from panicking, what if they had all abandoned the ship, and left her to burn in the harbor, what if they had drowned while fleeing her? What if... Enough, he reprimanded himself. That didn't happen. The ship is safe, the men are unhurt, and you have just been given praise from your captain. Those are what matters, not all the 'what ifs' you can create in your mind's eye.

He made his way through the ship, stopping several times to accept the congratulations and thanks of members of the crew. News had spread quickly it appeared, he thought as he finally escaped into his cabin. He really had only been doing his duty. Any other man would have done the same.

He lit the candle in his cabin, regarding it with wariness for a moment. Right now, any source of fire was suspect, and not something he wanted to see. He watched the dancing flame for a moment before deciding that the candle was secure, and then he pulled off his jacket, hanging it on a hook beside his door. He kicked off his shoes, then unbuttoned his shirt and sat down on his bed, leaning against the bulkhead. He was really much too wide-awake to try to sleep. Reading might help to calm me down, he thought, and got to his feet again. He opened his sea chest and reached for his Shakespeare book, and as he picked it up, he caught sight of a smaller book beneath it. Putting aside the Bard for now, he picked up the book.

Sir Walter Scott. Ah, the book Horatio had purchased for him. He opened the front piece and caught sight of some spindly handwriting inside. Frowning, he tried to make it out in the pale candlelight.

__

To Archie,

The best friend a man could want, and

the finest officer I could ever hope to 

serve with. The future holds great 

things for us as we journey through

it together. From one future admiral

to another, I remain,

Yours,  
Horatio Hornblower

Archie smiled as he re-read the inscription. How completely unlike the Horatio he had come to know, the undemonstrative, collected man who despised poetry or any romantic language. But as always, Horatio could bare his heart to Archie, and know that he would not be ridiculed. It was a testament to the strength of their friendship that they could each reveal sides of themselves to the other, sides that no one else would ever see, and not be ashamed. I'd do anything for him, Archie thought fiercely, surprising himself. I would give my life, or anything he asked, for him.

He closed the book and replaced it in the sea chest. Whether he was tired or not, he had been ordered by his captain to get some rest, so rest he would. He blew out the candle and crawled beneath his blanket. In a matter of minutes he was asleep, a soft smile gracing his face as he dreamed of ships sailing the sea, with himself in command, and nary a worthless sailor or lick of fire in sight. And always at his side was the man who was his other half, the man he knew as his brother. Horatio.

****


	15. Chapter Fifteen

****

Chapter Fifteen

A loud pounding on his door roused Archie from a sound sleep. Cursing quietly, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and got to his feet. He padded over to the door in his bare feet, and flung it open. Horatio stood there.

"Good god, Archie, Mr. Bowles told me what happened! Are you all right?"

"And a good morning to you, too, Mr. Hornblower," grumbled Archie. He stood aside and Horatio entered the cabin, pushing back his coat as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

"I'm sorry, Archie," he said contritely. "Did I wake you?"

"No," Archie sighed as he flopped down on the bed. "I had to get up to answer the banging on my door anyway."

"Right," said Horatio, not really getting it. He joined Archie in sitting on the bed. "So **are** you all right?"

"I'm fine," Archie answered with a yawn. "It wasn't as bad as it could have been."

"Well, perhaps not, but still! A fire aboard ship..."

"I suppose it was just my own version of a fire ship," said Archie without thinking. "Do you think it will win me my commission?"

Horatio stared at him. "Archie?"

"What?"

"You remember the fire ship? You weren't even there."

"No," said Archie slowly as he sat up, "but you told me of it, of course."

"Not since the accident."

Both men stared at each other for a moment. Hope leapt into Archie's eyes as he leaned forward.

"No, you haven't. But Horatio, I remember it, every detail. How you felt when you saw Foster was on the exam board, how you completely messed up the very first question they posed to you, how you saved the _Indy_ by steering the fire ship away... Horatio, it's all there! I know it!"

Horatio tried to check his own enthusiasm. "Anything else, Archie? Any memories, of, say, Matthews, or someone from _Justinian_, or your family?"

Archie thought for a moment, his brow furrowed in concentration. Everything was there, he knew it, but he just couldn't bring it out. Sighing, he looked up at Horatio. 

"No. Nothing."

Horatio, too, was disappointed, but not discouraged. "It's all right, Archie. Things are coming back to you, little by little. The memories appear to be sparked by certain things that happen, that bring back related memories. Eventually, they'll all be back."

"Yes, of course they will," Archie agreed. "And I guess that I have proven that it is not necessary to know your past in order to conduct your present."

"That you have, Archie," Horatio grinned. "And then some." He was quiet for a moment before continuing, trying to think of the right way to bring up something he wanted to discuss.

"Archie?"

"Hmm?" Archie was leaning back against the bulkhead, his eyes closed.

"Do you remember anything about the accident? Do you recall what you were doing right before it?"

Archie frowned, sitting up and looking at his friend. "The accident? No, I really don't remember a thing about that day."

"What about the battle? Do you recall any details of the gun being blown? Who were you talking to afterwards?"

"Afterwards? Afterwards I was in sick berth, unconscious. Horatio, what is this all about?"

"Archie, what happened to you may not have been an accident."

Archie stared at him. "You're mad."

"No," Horatio replied, shaking his head. "Archie, you were seen on your feet speaking to someone **after** the cannon was blown. I think that someone hit you over the head, trying to injure or kill you."

"Why on earth would anyone want to do that? And who…" Archie stopped and stared at Horatio. "Malley."

"I don't know that it was Malley," said Horatio. "I've not ruled him out, but it wasn't him you were speaking to directly after the hit."

"So who was it?"

"Haversham," Horatio said quietly. "And from what I am told, he looked very angry with you."

"Haversham?" said Archie doubtfully. "What would he have against me?"

"That's the problem," Horatio said unhappily. "I just don't know. We know nothing about the man, Archie, nothing about his past. For all we know, he joined the Navy to hide from the authorities. Perhaps he is a murderer, or a thief, and you found out and confronted him with it. Maybe he **had** to get rid of you."

"I wonder what I found out," Archie mused. "Must have been pretty bad, for him to strike an officer and risk the noose." He looked at Horatio. "So how do we go about finding out?"

"I don't know," said Horatio. "I was considering just asking him."

Archie stared. "You **are** mad. Horatio, if he tried to knock me over the head and kill me, why would you think that he wouldn't do the same to you? Look, we need to be cautious about this."

"No, I don't think so," said Horatio, crossing one leg underneath the other and turning to face Archie on the bed. "Haversham would never try anything if the both of us were there together - he'd know he can't beat us both."

"Perhaps not right then, but who is to say about later?"

"Then what do you suggest, Archie? That we ignore the fact that someone tried to kill you?"

"It's the **someone** part that bothers me. Look, Horatio, I know that I have no memory of what these men were like before the accident, but Haversham just doesn't strike me as a killer. He tends to just shrug off anything that should bother him. I can't imagine him being violent enough to bash me over the head."

"I agree it seems out of character, but he was seen next to you right before it happened."

Archie leveled his gaze on Horatio. "I still think it's Malley. And if it is, maybe we no longer have anything to worry about."

"What does that mean?"

Archie shrugged. "I did save his life, after all. That should count for something."

Horatio sighed. "It should, but it doesn't. Archie, I believe that Malley hates you even more now than he did before, if that's possible."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because I heard him up on deck. You risking your life to save him after he'd panicked has humiliated him. He was saying that he'd gone to the captain to tell him that you had pushed him overboard, but the captain brushed him off, and told Malley that you would not be punished for nearly burning the _Indy_. Malley said that the captain was so influenced by you that he cannot see the truth, that you tried to kill him."

Archie cocked his head. "Does he really believe that?"

Horatio nodded. "Apparently so."

"Ah, well, I suppose it had to come out sometime. I did, you know."

"Did what?"

"Tried to kill Malley. I knew he couldn't swim, so I just pushed him over the side."

Horatio's mouth dropped open. "Archie! You didn't!"

"Of course I did. How else was I to get rid of him?"

"But, but," Horatio stammered, staring at his friend. "How could you? Archie, that's murder! You could hang for that!"  


Archie grinned. "Not if I don't get caught. Who would believe a stupid man like Malley, over the dashing acting lieutenant from a titled family? It was the perfect opportunity."

"But...why?"

Archie sobered as he faced his friend. "It was for the good of the ship, Horatio. Malley was fostering dissent amongst the men, and who knows where that may have eventually led. Mutiny? Can't have that, can we? So, I took matters into my own hands."

Horatio, horrified, rose to his feet. "Dear god, Archie! I can't believe....murder? You?"

Archie shrugged. "Well, I almost got away with it, but someone saw me, so I had to change tactics and save him, instead. Too bad, really."

"Good god," Horatio whispered. "You really tried to kill him."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Horatio, I'm teasing. You are **such** an easy mark. I did not push Malley overboard, all right? Now, sit down, and let's think about this. Perhaps if we drop some hints to Haversham and Malley both that we know more than we do, one of them will tip their hand. What do you think?"

Horatio sat back down, eyeing his friend warily. Blast. Both versions of Archie liked to tease and torment him. It wasn't fair. Shouldn't there be some sort of regulation about tormenting your superior officers?

"All right, Archie, I suppose we could do that, and see what happens. In the meantime, how about I help you study for your exam?"

Archie smiled. "I'd like that, Mr. Hornblower. Since I am unlikely to find myself faced with a fire ship, I suppose I shall have to do this the old-fashioned way, and actually study for the exam."

"Very amusing, Mr. Kennedy. Would you care to start now?"

Archie shook his head. "No, what I need right now is some food and fresh air. How about a trip up on deck? Then maybe we could find Haversham or Malley and begin questioning them."

Horatio nodded as he rose to his feet. "Capital idea, Archie. Let's go."

The two men left the room and made their way up on deck, with a brief detour to the galley for some biscuits for the both of them. They arrived up top and looked around for any member of Archie's division. Whitney was lounging around, while Walters dozed beside him. Haversham was nowhere in sight, so Archie and Horatio focused their attention on Malley, who was sitting and conversing with Fuller, the two of them with their heads close together.

"That doesn't look good," Archie commented to Horatio as they made their way across the deck. "Wonder what they're up to now?"

"Let's find out, shall we?" answered Horatio as they reached the side of the two seaman, who looked up at their approach. Malley looked up, anger blurring his features as he saw the two hated officers, and he leaned back, arms crossed across his chest. Fuller, as always, remained silent, just watching them all.

"Good day, Malley, Fuller," Horatio nodded to them. 

"Sir," Malley spat out, obviously forcing himself to use the respectful address. Fuller merely nodded. 

"Mr. Kennedy and I have some questions we'd like to ask you."

"Huh," Malley grunted. "You askin' us? Thought you pretty-boy officers already knew everythin'."

"All right, Malley," Archie said sharply. "I don't know what your problem with us is, but you will not speak to Lieutenant Hornblower in that manner. He asks the questions, and you answer them. It's that simple."

Malley glared at him, then turned to Horatio. "Yes, sir?" he said, with exaggerated politeness.

Horatio clasped his hands behind his back. "I'd like to ask you a couple of questions about the day that _Intrépide_ attacked. For a start, what were you doing when your gun was destroyed?"

"What? You thinkin' it were my fault? Listen..."

"No, **you** listen, Malley. The frogs blew up your gun, not you. I am merely trying to establish the whereabouts of Mr. Kennedy's crew immediately following the loss of the gun. Where were you?"

"Just aft of it," Malley said sullenly. "Me 'n' Walters was trying to get away when it blew."

"And after the gun blew, what did you do?"

"Got to me feet, 'long with Walters. Whitney were just fore of us, with Fuller here. I seen Haversham 'n' Ken - Mr. Kennedy directly 'cross from us."

Horatio nodded. So far, it was the same as what Walters had reported. "So then where did you go?"

Malley looked suspiciously at him. "Whaddya mean?"

"I mean, Mr. Malley, where did you go when you got back to your feet? Did you go to aid your shipmates, to find out if they were injured? Did you check your gun?"  


"Didn't need to check the gun. It were a smokin' black hunk o' iron."

"So where did you go?" Horatio pressed. "Did you go to another gun, to see if you could help the crew? Did you see if anyone needed your assistance?"

"Perhaps he tried to jump overboard," Archie supplied helpfully, and Horatio shot him a look. 

"You are not helping, Mr. Kennedy."

Malley was looking at Archie with pure venom in his eyes. "I ain't the coward," he said angrily. "I ain't the one who tried to starve myself to death cuz I was too weak 'n' scared to come back to the _Indy_. I ain't the one who near got my mates killed on a bridge cuz I thought the frogs was after me. And I sure as hell ain't the one who used to lie 'neath Jack Simpson and beg for more every night."

"That's enough, Malley!" Horatio roared, but Malley ignored him.

"You liked bein' Jack's whore, dint you? I heard all 'bout how you 'n' him couldn't keep your hands off'n each other, how you used to beg for 'im to take you..."

Horatio grabbed Malley, dragging him to his feet and pinning him against the railing, his arm against the bigger man's throat. "You shut your mouth, Malley, or by god, I'll see it is shut permanently."

"Truth hurts, huh? Ever'one knew 'bout them two. I weren't even aboard that ship, but I heard all 'bout it from them that were. Stinkin' filthy…"

With a cry of disgust, Horatio threw the burly sailor away from him. "Get out of my sight, Malley, before I toss you overboard myself."

Malley threw them a furious look before turning and stalking off, Fuller trailing along behind him. Horatio, feeling sick to his stomach, turned back to his friend.

"Archie…"

Archie just looked at Horatio, then walked away. Horatio followed after him. Both men were silent as they made their way through the ship and entered Archie's cabin, the door closing behind them. Horatio waited for Archie to speak, but it was several minutes before he did. When he finally did, his voice was empty of all emotion.

"Is what Malley said true?"

Horatio closed his eyes for a second, trying to decide how best to handle this. He'd worked hard to win Archie's trust, and he was not going to let the spectre of Jack Simpson take it away now. The truth, he thought sadly. He deserves no less.

Facing Archie squarely, he said quietly, "From a certain point of view."

Archie's eyes blazed. "Throwing my own words back at me? What does that mean?"

Horatio took a deep breath. "It means that yes, you were with Jack Simpson. But you were not there willingly, Archie."

Horror flashed into those brilliant blue eyes. "He forced me?"

"Yes," Horatio said simply. "He was an evil man, and you did not deserve what he did to you. He's dead, Archie, and the world is a much better place because of it."

A pulse throbbed in Archie's jaw as he looked at the deck beneath their feet, and Horatio let him sort through his emotions. Damn Malley, he thought bitterly. Archie does not need this distraction right now.

"I need to know everything, Horatio."

"Archie, I'm not sure that's wise."

"Please, Horatio. Surely you can tell me the truth of what happened."

Horatio sighed, dreading this. He and Archie had not spoken of this since those long nights in El Ferrol, where Archie finally, by unburdening himself to his best friend, could begin to put this nightmare behind him. It had always been difficult for Horatio to even contemplate, much less talk about, what had happened but he knew that his discomfort was nothing compared to Archie's pain.

"All right, Archie. Sit down."

Archie sat, and Horatio began speaking, telling him of everything that had happened to him aboard _Justinian_, everything he had been subjected to since the age of twelve. Archie paled while he spoke, but said nothing, just allowing Horatio to tell the tale. When he finally finished speaking, there was silence in the tiny cabin.

Archie rose to his feet, wrapping his arms around his shoulders as if to hold himself away from the memories. He stood still, just staring at his sea chest, not really seeing anything in front of him.

"You'd think I would remember something like that."

"Aye," Horatio said softly. "But perhaps it is a blessing that you do not."

Archie nodded, still facing away from Horatio. The images provoked by Horatio's narrative had been merely that - images. He could recall nothing of that time, could not even see the face of his tormentor, could not feel the fear that Horatio said had nearly paralyzed him. He tried to conjure up the emotions that he should feel toward Jack, but there was nothing. Turning around, he looked at Horatio.

"You're right. I still do not remember anything about that time, and now I am grateful that I do not. The past cannot rule my life, Horatio. I must move into the future. Jack Simpson is dead and gone, and my past has been buried with him. Malley may believe what he will. You and I know the truth."

Horatio smiled at him. "Yes, we do, Archie. And those people who know you, who care for you, also know the truth, and will not listen to Malley and his ravings. The man is angry, Archie, and he seeks to hurt you in any way possible."

Archie regarded him. "Horatio. Malley brought that up for a reason."

Horatio stared back, their thoughts running along parallel tacks. "He wanted to change the subject. He wanted to get our attention away from what he was doing when you were attacked."

Archie nodded. "He's our man, Horatio, he has to be."

"I agree, Archie, but now we have to prove it."

Archie snorted. "Malley is not very bright - it shouldn't be difficult. All we have to do is get him angry enough to start ranting and raving, and he'll hang himself. Literally."

"And I hope I am there to see it," Horatio said grimly. "Honestly, Archie, I do not know how you have put up with him all these months. He could try the patience of a saint. I wonder why he hates officers so much?"

"The devil only knows, Horatio. Perhaps it is merely because he is forced into this life, while as officers, we chose to be here. I imagine it is nothing more complicated than that."

"Well, he should do as many others have, and simply accept his lot in life. He could make it so much easier for himself if he would stop fighting everything all the time, and just concentrate on doing his duty."

"Oh, Horatio," Archie sighed. "Not everyone looks on life as you do. Why, to some of us, there is actually something **besides** duty!"

"I cannot imagine what, Archie," Horatio said, raising his head and looking down his nose at his friend. "Duty is all."

Archie tilted his head as he looked at Horatio. "Did you **ever** have any fun as a child, Horatio?"

"I never was a child, Archie. I was born an adult." He turned and opened the door, preparing to leave.

"Now, **that** I believe," Archie grumbled as he followed Horatio into the passageway. "Makes it very difficult for the rest of us, you realize. We have so many years to catch up to..."

"Look, Archie," Horatio said as they arrived abovedecks. "Looks like Haversham finally decided to show his face."

Archie followed Horatio's look, and saw Haversham lounging aft, idly watching the deck being holystoned. They made their way over to him, taking their time so as not to alarm him.

"Good day, Mr. Haversham," said Archie.

Haversham rose to his feet. "Mr. Kennedy. Lieutenant Hornblower. Something I may do for you gentlemen?"

"Yes," Archie said bluntly. "You may tell me what you and I were discussing just before the gun blew, the day of my so-called accident."

Haversham eyed him, his eyes betraying nothing. "I don't know what you are speaking of, Mr. Kennedy. I remember no conversation."

"You see, that's just it," Archie said, walking in a circle around the sailor. "I don't remember it either, but it happened. There were witnesses, Haversham, and they will be more than willing to remind the both of us what that conversation consisted of. And of course, I will remember myself, in due time. My memory is returning, more every day."

"I'm glad to hear that, sir," Haversham said coolly. "It's a real shame about what happened to you. Guns can be such nasty things, can't they?"

"If it **was** the gun," Horatio said. "We don't believe it was."

"Really."

"Yes," Archie said. "See, someone hit me over the head, someone who was right next to me when the gun blew." He stopped and regarded Haversham in pretend surprise. "Now, wait. Wasn't that you, Haversham?"

"I don't know what you mean," Haversham said, rising to his feet and starting to walk off. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work waiting for me, and I must get to it." Before Horatio and Archie could say anything, he disappeared down the stairs.

The two men exchanged glances. "Curious," Archie said.

"Very curious," Horatio agreed. "And just begging for more information. We'll get it from him, Archie, sooner or later. He has something to hide."

"Yes," answered Archie, still staring after Haversham. "And I intend to find out just what he wants to keep so secret."


	16. Chapter Sixteen

****

Chapter Sixteen

"You cannot be serious."

"I am, Archie. Now, what would you do in that situation?"

The two men were firmly ensconced in the wardroom, Archie's books piled in front of them. Long-forgotten cups of coffee sat cooling on the table between them, while loose papers, covered with near-illegible scrawling lay across the table. A pen rested atop the papers, its nub stained with ink which dribbled onto the nearest piece of paper, rendering the words there even more indistinguishable. Plates of food lay largely ignored, and soft lantern light painted the walls a glowing gold.

Archie raked a hand through his hair, the golden strands loosening from his already unkempt queue and curling around his face. His eyes were focused on the table as he thought furiously.

"All right. Let's see. I am close-hauled on the port tack beating up channel, with a nor'east wind blowing strong."

"Right. Dover bears north two miles."

Archie glared at him. "I **got** that, I'm just thinking. Now, you say the wind veered six points - "

"Four points."

That earned him another glare. "Very well. **Four** points. Let's see, that takes me flat aback, Dover is under my lee, and, and...."

"You are now dismasted, sir. What are your orders?"

"Quiet, Horatio," Archie said irritably. "How the devil do you expect me to get this right if you keep speaking at me? I need silence to think this through without you constantly distracting me."

"It won't exactly be quiet aboard your ship, sir, what with your ship dismasted and such. What are your orders?"

"I don't **have** any!" Archie shouted. "Horatio, that is not a fair scenario. There are no correct ways to answer that!"

"But it is the question posed to you, Mr. Kennedy and you are required to answer. What are your orders?"

"Blast it, quit saying that! I don't know, I would, well, first I would....wait." Archie stared suspiciously at Horatio. "This is it, isn't it? This is the question they asked you at **your** examination - the one you couldn't answer. Hah! You still can't answer it, can you?"

"Archie, this is not about me, it is about you passing your lieutenant's exam in two days. Now, what is your answer?"

Archie leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest, staring belligerently at Horatio. "I'm not giving you one."

"I beg your pardon?"

"No, I'm not giving you one," Archie said determinedly. "I'll not solve your problem for you."

"Then you'll fail, Mr. Kennedy."

"Perhaps. But you **still** won't have that answer, will you?"

"Archie," Horatio said with exasperation, slamming the book that he held in his hands shut, a small puff of dust flying up from the book and floating lazily to the ceiling. "Stop being so stubborn. This is not an attempt to find out the correct answer to that problem. It is to see if **you** know the correct answer."

"No," Archie said smugly. "Even if I did answer, you wouldn't tell me if it was right, because you don't **know** the right answer."

"Archie!"

Archie leaned forward, his arms on the table, and regarded Horatio intently. "You can't stand it, can you? You cannot bear not knowing the answer to that problem, even after all this time. The mighty Horatio Hornblower failed at one thing in his life, and it will haunt him to his dying day."

"Very well, Mr. Kennedy," Horatio said as he stood up, pushing his chair behind him. "I only wished to help you prepare for your exam, but if you do not wish my assistance, then I shall leave. Good day to you, sir."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Horatio, would you please sit down? Will you never be able to take a joke?"

Horatio turned back to look at him, looking down his nose at the man he had been calling friend. "That was not a joke, Mr. Kennedy, it was insulting."

Archie shrugged. "The truth often is."

"It is not the truth, Mr. Kennedy," Horatio said hotly. "I do not dwell on that particular mistake. It is past."

"Is it?" Archie asked, and then he sighed. "Look, Horatio, I think that one of the best things about our friendship - and I mean our current one, though I am quite certain it also applies to the one before my accident - is that we are honest with each other. I tell you things that you do not want to hear, even if you are thinking or feeling the same thing. And you have a tendency of trying to keep me quiet." 

Horatio grinned slightly, his temper cooling down. "Yes, Mr. Kennedy, you do have a very bad habit of speaking your mind. Someday, it is going to be the death of you, or at least cause you a great deal of distress."

Archie grinned back, the smile lighting up his sapphire eyes. "But not for many a long year, I pray. Now, Horatio, will you please sit back down? I very much appreciate all of the assistance you are giving me."

Horatio regarded him warily. "Will you answer the question?"

"No, I will not."

"Then we have nothing more to say."

"Blast it, Horatio!" Archie yelled, startling Horatio. "Sit down! I'm not going to answer your damn question, because there is no right answer. My ship is lost, the men are dead. There. That is my answer. Are you happy?"

"I should imagine **you** are not at all happy, Archie. You just sank your ship."

"Well, at least it's only a pretend ship," Archie grumbled. "How many ships have **you** lost now?"

He stopped, and their eyes met across the table. Carefully, Horatio said, "Another memory, Archie?"  


"Yes," Archie nodded, pushing at the black veil in his mind. "I remember the _Marie Galante_. You sank her."

"I didn't really sink her," Horatio corrected him. "Actually, it was the crew of the _Indy_ who - "

" - who fired into her hull," finished Archie, grinning at him. "But you were in command when she went down."

Horatio sat down again, drawing his chair near to the table and looking at Archie. "You really do enjoy reminding me of my failures, don't you. I am not so sure that I am fond of that particular characteristic of yours."

Archie ignored him, his eyes unfocused as he continued. "I remember Pellew putting you in charge of her. As soon as he called your name, I knew what he was going to say. It hurt, Horatio, just for a moment - I was senior, it should have been me. But Pellew had taken you on as his special project, I could see that then, and I knew at that instant that you were going to leave me behind."

"Archie, you know that there was no need for two midshipmen aboard the _Marie Galante_. She was only - "

"No, Horatio," Archie said softly, a smile tugging at his lips but not reaching his eyes. "I mean, you were leaving me behind in our careers. I'd been aboard ship for six years before you came, but in such a short time, you had surpassed me in everything put before us. You breezed through the navigation problems, the men respected you - it was hard, Horatio."

Horatio sat looking at his friend for a moment. Strange that they should be discussing this now, when their friendship was new again, when they had never talked about this in all the time they had been friends before the accident. He'd never known that Archie had felt any resentment or jealousy toward him - his friend had always been so happy and supportive of him, that he'd never stopped to consider how his actions were hurting the other man. He'd always put his career ahead of his friendship, while Archie had done the exact opposite.

"Archie," he said slowly, not meeting the other man's eyes. "Now that these particular memories are coming back, there is something I have always wondered, but never found the right time, or maybe the courage, to ask."

"So ask."

Horatio raised his eyes to Archie's. "Your memories of _Justinian_ are coming back, in bits and pieces, right?" As Archie nodded, he continued, "This has always bothered me a little bit, and I did not know if I was imagining things or not. During one of our first classes in navigation together, all the midshipmen were given a certain longitudinal problem by Mr. Bowles. When the captain came around to see how we were doing, he checked all of our work, beginning with Simpson, who had completely gotten the answer wrong. Do you remember what I am speaking of?"

Archie nodded slowly, then rose to his feet and walked slowly around the wardroom. "Yes, I believe I do. We all got the answer wrong, except for you. The captain made some comment about you alone being successful among the rest of the intellectual giants, or something like that."

"Yes," Horatio said, relieved that Archie remembered. "The thing is, I could have sworn that you also had the correct answer, but the captain said no. Am I mistaken?"

Archie stopped his pacing and rested against the table, staring at the place where the wall met the floor, memories beginning to pierce the black curtain in his mind. "No," he finally said, very quietly. "I had it right. But I changed it."

"Why?"

"Because **he** got it wrong."

"Simpson," Horatio said softly.

Archie nodded. "I knew what awaited anyone who got it right when he had gotten it wrong, and been humiliated by the captain in front of us, on top of it. I should have warned you, Horatio, what he would do, but there just wasn't time, and besides, I doubt whether you would have changed it anyway."

"No," Horatio agreed. "I would not have."

"And I did not have your strength," Archie said, his back still to Horatio. "Because I knew if I had gotten it right, he would have come after me, he would have..**GOD**!!" The cry burst from Archie, and he bent over, arms wrapped around his middle.

Horatio, concerned, jumped to his feet and rushed to his side. "Archie? What is it? Are you all right?"

Archie was rocking back and forth, his arms still gripping his stomach, his eyes growing wide and frightened. His words tumbled out of him, a river of pain and grief flowing faster than he could keep up with. "Oh, god, Horatio, I knew what he would do, I knew he would drag me into the cable tiers again, that he'd put his hands over my mouth, oh, god, I knew that he would hurt me in - that - way, I had to protect myself somehow, but I never wanted him to hurt you, if I had known you had it right, I would have left mine alone, so that he would come after me instead of you, oh, god, Horatio, I'm so sorry, I'm so very sorry...." 

"Easy, Archie," Horatio soothed, cursing himself for bringing forth this memory. If only he had kept quiet, Archie would not be reliving the things Jack had done to him, he would not have slid back into his nightmarish past. "It's all right," he said, placing a hand gently on Archie's back. "It's all in the past, Archie, Jack's dead, he can't hurt you." He gently rubbed his friend's back, trying to ease away the pain.

After a long time, Archie's rocking ceased, and he was quiet and still under Horatio's hand. "I never wanted it, Horatio, I swear I didn't."

Horatio eased Archie into one of the chairs, drawing up another and sitting beside him. "Of course you didn't, Archie. No one would ever have wanted to go through what you did at his hands."

Archie was still bent over, his gaze fixed upon the wall. "It started when I was so young - I just didn't have the strength to fight him off, and then when I was older, I was just too scared, too beaten down - I couldn't keep him away." His head dropped down, and he hunched over, as if trying to hide himself away from the memory. "I was so weak."

"No," Horatio said firmly. "You were not weak, Archie. You forget that I was there, I saw what he was like, I know how he treated everyone. He was near obsessed with you, Archie, with having and controlling you, and I curse myself every day for not seeing it sooner, for not being able to help you."

His voice still muffled, his head buried upon his drawn-up knees, Archie said, "I was so afraid that he would do the same to you, Horatio. You made him so angry - I knew what he was capable of when he was like that. I couldn't let that happen to you, so there were times when I, I..." his voice trailed off as he sat up, putting his feet upon the floor, and he looked at Horatio. "I didn't try to fight him off."

It was as if a knife was stabbed into Horatio's heart. "No, Archie," he breathed. "Tell me you did not do that. Not for me."

Archie nodded, no longer able to look at Horatio. "I thought that if I just gave Jack what he wanted, he wouldn't come after you, he wouldn't hurt you like that. I never stopped to consider that you were stronger than I was, that you would have fought him off, probably because I'd never been able to do that myself. It was the only thing I knew how to do, Horatio, the only way I knew to help you."

Horatio felt sick to his stomach, worse than any seasickness he had ever experienced at Spithead or anywhere else. Archie had sacrificed himself so that Horatio would not be exposed to Jack's darkness, so that he would not be forced to endure what Archie had for years. And he had never said a word about it.  


"Archie," he said helplessly. "I do not know what to say."

Shaking his head, Archie sat up a little straighter in his chair. "You do not have to say anything, Horatio. You would have done the same for me, in my place."

"You overestimate me," Horatio said quietly. "I am not so certain I could have. I would have broken."

Archie's smile was brief and sad. "I never overestimate you, Horatio. Never. I know you too well."

"But you **do** underestimate yourself. You have a great strength within you, Archie, one that even I was not aware of. I do not know how you bore it for so long. But it's over now. You have nothing more to fear from Simpson, nothing more to be ashamed of." He put a hand once more on Archie's shoulder. "You are free, Archie."

Free. The word rang with so many possibilities. For a moment, Archie just sat there, consoled by the warmth on his shoulder where Horatio's hand lay, and in the knowledge that Horatio was right, that he was forever safe now from Jack Simpson and his unwanted attentions. Taking a deep breath, he rose to his feet, Horatio's hand falling away, and he faced his friend and spoke simply.

"Thank you. I still don't recall everything he did, not every detail, but you are right. It is a part of my past that I can now lay to rest, for he has no hold on me. I think I can be free of Jack now."

Horatio smiled at him. "I am truly glad to hear that. I'm sorry you had to remember, Archie. I wish you could have back all of your memories except those of him."

Archie smiled softly. "It doesn't appear to work that way. But he's lost, Horatio. He may have beaten me before, but this time around, I'm putting him to rest forever. I won't let him win. I won't let him rule me from the grave."

Horatio smiled at the determination in Archie's voice. "I am very pleased to hear that, Archie. I always knew that you had the strength to move beyond him - you just had to find it within yourself. Too bad it took such a hard knock on your head to do it."

Archie gaped at him. "Horatio? Was that an attempt at a joke? I can't believe it!"

"Well, it appears that I have learned something from you, too, Mr. Kennedy. Now how about we get back to these books, and make certain sure that you know everything they could possibly ask. How about you define the use of a rhumb line?"

"Rum line? Is that like splicing the main brace?"

Horatio shook his head. "Not 'rum' like the drink, sir. A rhumb line."

"It's a navigational line on the - wait, Horatio! Now I understand! That comment you made to me before the captain began testing me - the bit about the Nile, and central Africa! Keene said that to Simpson, didn't he? I remember it. I would have laughed, except Jack would have, well, you know." He leaned back, wide eyes focused on Horatio. "I'll be damned. Two jokes from you. This calls for a celebration."

"No, Archie," Horatio said, sitting back down at the table and opening up one of the books. "Study first, celebrate later."

Archie sighed as he also sat back down. "You are a hard taskmaster, Mr. Hornblower. I only hope that all this hard work is worth it."

"You'll thank me, Archie. Someday, you will find a way to repay me."

*****

Horatio once again paced the deck of _Indefatigable_, his mind completely focused on what was happening ashore. Archie, dressed in a clean and pressed uniform, his hat perched smartly on top of his head, had departed that morning for the Admiralty in London, to appear for his lieutenant's exam, exuding a confidence that no longer surprised Horatio. Archie was a different man now, no longer insecure and uncertain, but confident and steadfast. He'd become the officer - the man - that both Horatio and Pellew had known he could be, if the demons of his past could ever be laid to rest. He now possessed a quiet maturity and leadership, a willingness to step in where needed and do whatever was required of him. His knowledge of all things nautical was strong, and he'd studied hard. He was ready for this exam.

Still, Horatio worried. Anything could happen at these events. A momentary flash of panic, and all could be lost. It had happened to older men than Archie, men who should have breezed through the exam and received their commission, but had faltered for one instant and thus been refused. What would happen to Archie if that were to befall him? Sent back to the midshipman's berth for six months, disrated in the eyes of the men...how would he react?

"He'll be fine, Mr. Hornblower."

Horatio turned, to find the sailing master at his side. "I certainly hope so, Mr. Bowles. He's worked very hard for this."

"Yes," Bowles nodded, "he has. But in the eyes of many, he's already earned it. This is a mere formality."

Horatio smiled, thinking of a bridge in France, and a mad dash by a friend with wings on his feet. "Aye, that he has. I only hope that all three of the captains who are testing him will see the same."

"They will, Mr. Hornblower. Our young friend is not to be denied." At a call from below, Bowles turned toward shore. "And you may now find out for yourself, sir. Mr. Kennedy approaches."

Horatio turned to the rail. The shore boat was just coming alongside, but he couldn't read anything in Archie's expression or demeanor that gave any indication of the outcome. Impatient, he stood at the side while Archie came aboard.

"Well, Mr. Kennedy?"

Archie looked around. The men of his division had followed Horatio and Bowles over to the side, with Matthews, Styles and Oldroyd also crowding in to hear the news from him. He flashed a grin at Horatio.

"So, Lieutenant Hornblower, it appears that all of our hard work bore fruit. You may now all address me as Lieutenant Kennedy, if you please."

Horatio smiled widely, reaching out to shake Archie's hand. Walters called, "Three cheers for Lieutenant Kennedy," and the men cheered him enthusiastically.

"My heartiest congratulations, Lieutenant Kennedy," Horatio said. "I had the utmost faith in you."

"Yes, you did," Archie said softly. "And I thank you for it."

Horatio, still grinning, nodded at him, then stepped back as Archie was surrounded by the men, accepting their congratulations and several hearty back-slaps. Eventually, the men all moved off, back to their duties, and Archie turned back to Horatio.

"Is the captain aboard? I should like to share this with him as soon as possible. After all, when a post presents itself, I shall leave _Indefatigable_ and become a true lieutenant, not just a passed midshipman as I am now."

"No, he went ashore shortly after you did. He said he had some business he had to take care of before we set sail. Come, let me get you a cup of grog. We should celebrate!"

As the two men moved off, two pairs of eyes watched them go, bitterness clouding their vision. 

"Damn Kennedy got 'is commission," Malley growled. "Ain't gonna be no livin' with 'im now."

"Was there ever?" asked Fuller.

"No, but now he's gonna be worse. Damn soddin' bastard. I ain't gonna put up with 'im, Fuller, I ain't."

"What ya gonna do?"

"Don't know yet, but it'll be somethin' that'll crack 'im. He don't deserve to be no lieutenant, an' I can jus' 'magine 'ow 'e got promoted. Sure ain't cuz 'e knows 'ow to be no sailor."

"No," agreed the taciturn Fuller.

Malley was fuming as he stared aft. "Can't you jus' see 'im 'n' 'is prissy 'Ornblower, paradin' 'round in their matchin' lieutenant uniforms, orderin' us to do their duty? Makes me sick, Fuller, sick to me stomach. We gotta take care of 'em."

"How?"

Malley didn't answer, but looked at the place where the circle of men had earlier been congratulating Archie. A sly smile spread across his face.

"I don't rightly know 'ow yet, but I does know when. They's gonna be in town celebratin' tonight. And you 'n' me is gonna be waitin' fer 'em."

****


	17. Chapter Seventeen

****

Chapter Seventeen

"Three cheers for Lieutenant Kennedy!" yelled a drunken Oldroyd, almost falling over as he stood up on a stool and raised his mug. "Hip hip..."

"Hooray!"

"Hip hip..."

"Hooray!"

"Hip hip..."

"Hooray!"

Archie raised his mug to the men, who cheered enthusiastically and downed their own mugs of ale. Archie grinned into his as he looked across the table at Horatio, taking a long drink before he spoke.

"I think they're more excited than I am. Of course, it could just be because it's a reason for them all to get drunk on their arses."

Horatio laughed. "No doubt it is a combination of both. They can use the release. You worked hard for this, Archie, and the men know as well as I do how much you deserve it."

Archie nodded, then looked down at the table. "Thank you, Horatio," he said as he raised his eyes back to meet his friend's. "For everything."

"It was my pleasure, Archie, though thanks are hardly necessary. You did this on your own," Horatio said as he looked around. "This is quite the pub you found for us to celebrate in."

It was a cozy little pub, mostly inhabited right now by _Indefatigable_ crew, but bright and cheerful. Styles and Matthews were coaxing Walters and Whitney into a chorus of "Heart of Oak" in the corner, while other crew members were flirting with the bar maids who were serving them. It was a loud and rambunctious group, but overall so far they had behaved themselves, and the sound of laughter was like a symphony to Archie. Even though he hadn't let it show, he'd been very nervous about this day, and he was relieved that it was finally over, that he had gotten the results he wanted.

"I'm glad you like it. I don't remember ever being here before, but I suppose I could have been. It just sounded like a pleasant, fun place to spend this evening." He raised his mug to Horatio. "To The Prancing Pony."

"The Prancing Pony," Horatio agreed, raising his own. He looked around the room, noting many of _Indefatigable_'s crew still drinking and enjoying themselves. His division was here, along with Walters, Whitney, and Haversham from Archie's, and various others. Briefly, he wondered where Malley and Fuller were, but quickly pushed that to the back of his mind. It was just as well that they weren't here, for they would have cast a pall over the happy atmosphere, and Archie didn't need that. Tonight was a celebration.

"Horatio, I think I've had a few too many, here."

Horatio snorted into his mug. "You think so?" Archie had been enjoying himself immensely this evening, and had downed mug after mug of the potent ale. "Feeling a bit drunk, Lieutenant Kennedy?"

Archie smiled widely, practically lighting up the entire interior of the pub. "I do like the sound of that, Lieutenant Hornblower. But no, actually, I feel wonderful, not drunk. However, I do find myself badly in need of the head."

"Ah," said Horatio. "I rather feel the need myself." He looked around. "Um..."

Archie rose to his feet, and pulled Horatio to his. "Come on, man, the alley's just outside the back door there."

Horatio looked at him, dark eyes wide in the soft lamplight. "In public, Archie?"

"Hardly public, sir. I can tell that you spend no time in this type of establishment - it's common practice to relieve yourself in the alley, and come right back in and drink some more. Come on, man, let's get to it." He grabbed Horatio's arm and nearly dragged him across the room to the back door.

Horatio yanked his arm out of Archie's hand, nearly tipping over backwards with his effort. "I do not need your assistance, Mr. Kennedy," he said. "I am quite capable of walking on my own two feet."

Archie laughed as they went out the door. "Well, you just make sure everything of yours stays on your own two feet."

Horatio made a face. "Not amusing, Mr. Kennedy. I certainly do not need your help in carrying out that particular procedure."

"Good, because you're not getting it."

Horatio moved off to the far end of the alley, away from Archie, who didn't seem bothered by the fact that he was illuminated by the lantern at the opposite end of the alley. His business completed, he looked around and saw that Archie had also finished his.

"Ready for more celebration, Mr. Kennedy?"

"Indeed I am, Mr. Hornblower."

"I'm pleased to hear it, sir. Shall we?"

"Yes, we - " Archie's voice broke off as a pair of strong arms encircled his chest, pinning his arms. Alarmed, Horatio started toward him, cursing the fact that neither of them had brought any weapons to the celebration.

"Archie!"

"Oh, you ain't gonna be able to help him none," came a sneering voice from behind him. Slowly, Horatio turned around, to find Malley, standing in the darkness with a knife in one hand and a pistol in the other. He glanced over his shoulder at Archie, who was standing stock still in Fuller's arms, a knife at his throat, his eyes locked on Horatio's face.

"Malley, Fuller, put the weapons down," Horatio ordered angrily. "Surely you know the punishment for assaulting an officer."

"Don't care," Malley said, slowly waving the knife. "Ain't no one here to see, and ain't neither one o' you gonna be alive to tell the tale."

"Don't be ridiculous," snapped Horatio, advancing forward. Malley jerked his head, and Horatio heard a muffled cry behind him. He spun around. Fuller had drawn the knife just barely across Archie's neck, and a thin line of blood ringed his neck like a ruby necklace, small teardrops of crimson hanging like jewels. Horatio turned back to Malley, but spoke to Fuller.  


"Let him go, Fuller. If you harm him, I'll kill you myself."

Malley laughed. "Best part o' plannin' this was decidin' which one o' you was gonna die first. Then I thought, priv'lege o' rank, 'n' 'Ornblower goes first. That way, Kennedy gets t' see 'is lover bleed t' death 'fore 'is own eyes."

"You planned this?" Archie's voice was full of disdain. Horatio couldn't help but notice he was using his aristocratic 'can't be bothered with these peasants' voice, the one Archie - the old Archie - had often used to mock his family. "Good god, Malley, I knew you were incompetent, but this is just plain stupid. You are not at all bright, are you."

"Shut up," Malley hissed, pointing the pistol at Archie, but keeping an eye on Horatio. "I's bright enough t' catch you, wasn't I? Mebbe I'll just shoot you 'tween the legs, then you can watch 'Orblower die. I think I might jus' enjoy that even more."

"Try it, you coward," said Archie. "Of course, all you'll manage to do is shoot your mate Fuller here instead. You couldn't hit the _Indy_ if you were standing right beside her."

"Shut up," Malley said again. "You 'ave a mind t' fight, ya snivelin' dog?"

…_A bright sunny day on the deck of _Indefatigable._ Crisp air caressing the faces of the men as they looked joyously up at Captain Pellew as he bellowed, "You have a mind to fight?" Cheers from the men, and a great happiness bubbling up inside Archie. A sense of belonging, a sense of companionship and duty never felt aboard _Justinian…

Archie froze at the unexpected memory. He looked down the long alley, but couldn't see Horatio's face in the shadows, just the shadowed outline of his body. Malley was still behind him, and he could catch the light glinting off the pistol he held in his hand, though his face was not visible either. 

"Not with you," he said contemptuously. "I couldn't count on you for a fair fight. Or are you going to have Fuller bash me over the head again, like he did at the Mermaid?"

Malley chuckled. "Tweren't him at the Mermaid."

"I'd expect it of you, Malley, though I know it wasn't you who actually hit me. That's the only way you can win, isn't it - to have your mates do your fighting for you? You certain sure can't do it yourself."

Malley laughed outright, his head thrown back and his feet planted wide. "I did it pretty fine on t'e _Indy_, dint I? You wasn't even lookin', wasn't payin' attention to nothin'. It were so easy t' sneak up b'hind you 'n' hit you with that powder bucket."

"It **was** you," Horatio broke in angrily. "Assaulting an officer will get you the noose, Malley."

"Not if no one knows 'bout it," Malley answered. He looked at Archie. "I tole you I wasn't no powder monkey."

"No, you were right," Archie said, testing Fuller's grip on him and getting nowhere. "That would be an insult to all the powder monkeys in the fleet."

Malley swore and moved forward. Horatio, seeing his attention focused on Archie, leapt forward and grabbed for his arm, trying to wrestle the gun away. The two men struggled for a moment, the pistol pointed skyward, until Horatio squeezed Malley's hand so tightly that the gun went off, the blast echoing down the long alley.

"Horatio!" Archie cried in panic. He couldn't see anything in the shadows, couldn't tell if Horatio was hit.

…_A duel? Are you mad? Simpson's reckoned one of the best shots in the Navy…It ends here, Archie…one way or another... I have an even chance_…

"What's the matter?" Fuller growled in his ear. "Gonna miss your little plaything when he's dead?"

…_Hello, Archie...Jack's missed you, boy_…

"Horatio!" Archie was desperate. He could see two shadows separating in the darkness, but couldn't tell if either man was hit. The lamplight from behind him again gleamed dully against the shaft of the knife in Malley's hand.

__

...You must keep your head, or you will lose it...

"I'm all right, Archie," Horatio called. 

"Not fer long," growled Malley, advancing with the knife held in front of him. "Fuller, after I stick 'im, you cut Kennedy's throat."

"You're too much of a coward," said Horatio, turning his back and walking away from the burly sailor. "Too weak to - "

Malley roared and stumbled forward, knife extended. "Damn off'cer!" he cried, and thrust the knife home.

"No!" Archie screamed, struggling futilely against Fuller's powerful grip. Horatio, now visible in the lamplight from behind Archie, stopped dead in his tracks. Across the vast darkness between them, his eyes met Archie's as the knife was driven home. Pain flashed through them, followed by a steady awareness as he slowly dropped to his knees, his eyes never leaving Archie's.

"NO!" Archie screamed again, thrusting his elbow back as hard as he could into Fuller's side. Fuller grunted and bent over a little, his hold loosening just enough for Archie to slip from his grasp, but his hands grabbed Archie's jacket as he tried to escape. Fuller hauled him back, wrapping his arms around him once again. Archie struggled as best he could, but Fuller was much stronger than he was, and he couldn't get away.

"Let me go, dammit," he nearly sobbed. "Horatio!"

A pair of arms came out from behind Fuller and wrapped around Fuller's neck. Archie looked up into Haversham's face. "I have him, sir," Haversham panted. "Go."

Archie turned and fled down the long alley, fear making it hard to breath. Oh, god, don't let him be dead, he prayed. Not Horatio. Please.

…_A bridge…Horatio trapped on the other side, on his knees over a body…the fuse lit…no time for thought, only time for flight…racing, his heart beating as fast as his feet were flying…puffs of dust rising from beneath his feet…the men yelling for him to come back, it was too late…_

He reached Horatio, who had fallen face-first into the dirt, his eyes unfocused. Dropping to his knees beside him, Archie prayed for a sign of life, and as he did, Horatio's body twitched in his arms.

__

...Hornblower, cut a reel...Dance, I say! Dance! Dance! Dance! Staccato thumps accompanied the words, Jack yelling...

"Horatio?" he said as he gently lifted his friend up, lifting and pushing aside his jacket to inspect the wound. Blood stained the back of the white shirt, turning it a dull, rusty color. Oh, god, there was so much blood. "Horatio, can you hear me?" *Don't you die on me, dammit!*

__

...Light and life were fading from him, nothing mattered anymore, he only wished for the sweet release of death...do you have a sweetheart in England, Archie?...

"Archie?" He almost missed the faint whisper.

"I'm here, Horatio."

__

...We won't survive without you...

A soft whisper met his ear. "Though this be madness, yet there is method in 't."

"Horatio?"

Horatio slid down further, his eyes empty and his body going limp in Archie's arms. Archie held him close as yet another memory assaulted him.

__

…The cell in El Ferrol. Horatio released from the oubliette after six long days…His return to the cell, the guards dropping him…Archie and Hunter easing him to the floor, Archie's arms wrapping around him…

"Mr. Kennedy!" It was Walters and Whitney, alerted by the sound of the gun firing. They started to rush down the alley, but stopped when Malley moved between them and the two officers.

"Git back!" Malley yelled, waving the knife at them. "Git back, all of ya! I gotta kill 'em both! We don't need neither one of 'em!"

__

...You're one of us...

"What are you doin'?" Walters yelled. "You'll hang fer this, you fool!"

"Don't care!" Malley screamed. "Ain't gonna serve with no buggerers! Damn filthy sodomites, the both of 'em!"

__

...His father's study at Kennedy Manor. His father in a rage, Archie, barely 20 years of age and newly returned from prison, trembling before him.

"Is it true?" his father screams.

"Father, it is not what you think..."

"Dammit, you pathetic boy, I asked you a question. Yes or no. Have you been intimate with this man Simpson?"

Archie, tears rolling down his face, can only answer honestly. "Yes."

Disgust, horror, revulsion - all expressed plainly on Lord Kennedy's aristocratic features. His hand snakes out, striking Archie hard across the face. Archie stumbles back, then recovers and looks at the man before him.

"Father, please listen..."

"Listen? Listen to my son explain why he is a filthy sodomite? You disgusting creature."

"No, Father, please, I didn't want it - he forced me..."

"Get out," Lord Kennedy says coldly. "The servants will pack your bags and send them to that den of iniquity you live on. Never step foot upon these lands again."

"Didn't you hear me?" Archie cries in desperation. "He raped me."

"If you were any kind of man, he could never have forced you. You wanted him. You could have fought him off, but you wanted his hands on you, you wanted him to do filthy, ungodly things to you. You are a weakling - always have been, all your life. Fits. Spells. Theatre, music, books - I knew I should have forced you to hunt. You've never in your life been anything but a disappointment and embarrassment to this family. You're a damn girl, that's what you are. Revolting."

"No," Archie says, his voice and heart breaking. "I am your son."

"Not any more," Lord Kennedy says. "I disclaim all knowledge of you. If you ever appear here again, I'll have you shot as an intruder, and your body drawn and quartered and fed to the buzzards so there is nothing left. Get out."

Anger roared through Archie as memory after memory flooded his mind; Jack's filthy hands on him; Horatio's brave stand against him; capture and imprisonment and his own prayer for death; his soul torn from him as he endured day after endless day in the dark, dank oubliette; his spirit finally beaten down with the appearance of Horatio and his men at the prison; his wish to end all the pain and slip away into the constant night; standing high atop the _Indy_'s mast, soaring above the world and all its sorrows, feeling his soul reborn - it all came back to him, every little instant of his life. He rose to his feet like an avenging god, launching himself at Malley.

"Oof!" Malley grunted as Archie barreled into him, knocking him down, the knife flying from his grip. Archie, knowing nothing now but the heat of his anger and the coldness of his fear for Horatio, began pummeling him, hitting him harder and harder, over and over.

"Stop!" Malley cried, trying to protect his face with his hands. "Yer killin' me!"

Strong arms touched Archie's shoulders, pulling him away from the beaten man. He shrugged them off and again went after Malley, who was now curled into a fetal position, begging for his life.

"Easy, Mr. Kennedy," came Walter's calm voice. "We got 'im, sir. You see to Mr. 'Ornblower."

Horatio. With a cry, Archie thrust Malley away from him and ran to Horatio's side. Gently, he pushed back a lock of curly hair from the sweaty face. "Horatio?"

There was no answer.

__

...Sleep now, Archie, it's only a bad dream...

If only that were so.

****


	18. Chapter Eighteen

****

Chapter Eighteen

"Horatio?" Archie said anxiously, but still there was no answer. "Dammit," he swore in a hushed tone, then looked up at the crowd gathering. "Where's the nearest doctor?" he yelled to them.

Matthews, looking quite shaken, pushed his way through the crowd. "Dr. Hepplewhite was 'avin' dinner just down the way, sir. Oldroyd went to fetch him." He knelt beside Archie and looked at him. "How is 'e, sir?"

Archie shook his head. "I just don't know, Matthews," he said helplessly. "He won't answer me." He took a deep breath, then put a hand to his friend's throat, closing his eyes as relief washed over him. "He's still breathing."

"Aye, that's all we need t' see," Matthews said comfortingly. "He'll be up 'n' 'round in no time." He looked up into the crowd. "Styles!" he called.

Styles pushed his way through the crowd of men. "What can I do, Matty?"

Matthews jerked his head toward Malley, still held tightly by Walters and Whitney. "Take care of that brute," he said brusquely. 

"It'll be my pleasure," growled Styles as he stalked toward the cowering man. "Ain't nobody gonna hurt Mr. 'Ornblower and get away with it." He grabbed Malley and dragged him away, followed by Haversham and Whitney escorting Fuller.

Archie pressed down on Horatio's wound, trying to staunch the flow, not caring that his hands were now covered in his friend's blood. "Come on, Horatio," he said grimly. "You must hold on. Captain Pellew will have my head if I let his protégé die."

"Step aside, step aside!" came the voice of Doctor Hepplewhite as he shoved the crowd of onlookers aside. "Get out of my way." He arrived at Horatio's side and slowly knelt next to him to inspect the wound. "Mr. Kennedy," he said gently. "You must remove your hands so I may check his injury."

Archie sank back on his heels, his heart pounding with fear for his friend. To die like this, in an alley, with no honor - no. That was not the way Horatio Hornblower would leave this world, not the last memory his friends and men would have of him. A drop of sweat dripped into his eye, and he raised a hand to wipe it away. Catching sight of the blood covering his hands, he stopped dead. Horatio's blood. He was covered in it. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the crimson liquid on his hands, couldn't stop thinking of Horatio's life draining away...

"Here ya go, Mr. Kennedy, sir."

Archie looked up, to see Matthews standing above him, a towel in his hand. Slowly, he reached out and took it, wiping the blood from his hands.

Matthews patted his shoulder. "I borrowed it from the Pony, sir."

"All right," Hepplewhite said brusquely. "I've stopped the bleeding temporarily, but we must get him inside so I may stitch it up. You men," he said, gesturing at some of the _Indefatigable_ crew in the crowd. "Carry him - GENTLY - into that pub there, and clear a table where he may lie."

Carefully, four men lifted Horatio and took him inside the Prancing Pony, with Archie, the doctor, and Matthews trailing behind. The pub was nearly deserted now, as most everyone had gone out to see what all the commotion in the alley was about, so Archie swept several abandoned mugs off of a table, and Horatio was laid on his side upon it. The doctor opened his bag and took out several instruments.

Archie hovered at his side. "Is there anything I can do, doctor? Anything at all?"

"No, Mr. Kennedy," Hepplewhite said, his attention focused on Horatio. "It looks to be a clean wound - no major organs or blood vessels were pierced. A few stitches, and he should be good as new."

Relief and disbelief both washed over Archie. "Are you certain, doctor? There's so much blood..."

Hepplewhite peered at him. "Are you a doctor now, Mr. Kennedy?"

Archie, in no mood for any type of banter, said sharply, "What is his condition, doctor?"

Hepplewhite turned back to Horatio and began to stitch the wound. "He'll be fine, sir. I'll recommend no duty for him for a few days, but there should be no permanent damage."

Closing his eyes, Archie breathed a silent prayer. "Thank you, doctor."

"Hmm," the doctor said, his attention fully focused back on Horatio. Skillfully, he stitched the wound closed while the men watched, Archie feeling each stab of the needle as if it were piercing his own skin.

Walters came over to stand beside Archie. "Sir?"

"Yes, Walters?" Archie said distractedly. That was a rather large number of stitches…

"You're injured, sir."

"What - oh, that," he said as Walters gestured at the thin ring of blood around his neck. "It's just a scratch."

"Aye, sir," said Walters firmly, "but a scratch that could get infected. Will you let me clean it, sir?"

"It can wait."

"No, sir, I dun't think so. Might as well take care of it now, 'fore Mr. 'Ornblower wakes up 'n' sees you lookin' like you faced the noose."

Unconsciously, Archie raised a hand to the scratch on his neck, wincing as his fingers brushed across the wound. "Very well, Walters," he sighed. "Clean away."

Walters left for a moment, returning shortly with a rag he'd borrowed from the bartender, and a bowl of water. Archie sat down in a chair across from the doctor. Gently, Walters dipped the rag in the water and blotted away the blood, the water in the bowl soon turning a pale red. Archie said nothing, just watching the doctor as he finished up with Horatio.

Satisfied, the doctor patted Horatio's shoulder and looked over at Archie. "He should be all right to move now, lieutenant. I suggest we return him to _Indefatigable_ just as soon as possible."

"It cannot be soon enough for me," came a tired voice from the table. Archie jumped to his feet and walked to the table.

"Horatio! You're awake!"

"I would assume so, Mr. Kennedy, since I am speaking to you."

"Oh, very good, Mr. Hornblower. Too bad that knife wasn't loaded with a sense of humor, for I fear that is the only way you will ever develop one." He helped Horatio to sit up, swinging his legs over the side of the table.

Horatio winced. "Oh, dear."

"Sorry, Mr. Hornblower," Archie said with a smile. "I am pleased that you are back with us."

Horatio, color slowly returning to his cheeks, looked around. "Where's Malley?"

Archie sobered. "Styles and some of the men took him and Fuller away. I'm assuming they went back to the _Indy_." He looked closely at his friend. "They'll hang for this, Horatio."

Horatio nodded. "Yes, they will. And the air will smell all the sweeter for it."

"Yes," Archie agreed. "I imagine it will. And since Malley confessed to being the one to assault me aboard the _Indy_, that is one more mark against him. He also said it wasn't Fuller who hit me from behind at the Mermaid. We'll probably never know who did that."

Horatio eased himself to his feet, Archie taking his arm to aid him. A short wave of dizziness came over him, but he quickly shook it off. He looked over at Hepplewhite, who was cleaning off his instruments.

"Thank you, doctor."

Hepplewhite nodded. "Merely doing my duty, Mr. Hornblower. I'm glad I was nearby. Had you not gotten immediate medical attention, I fear the results may not have been so pleasant." He put his instruments back in his bag, snapping it shut, and faced the two men. "Now, sir. You will report to your cabin in _Indefatigable_, and remain there until I say otherwise."

"Doctor," protested Horatio. "I am fine. Really."

Glaring at him, the doctor shook his head. "Those are my orders, lieutenant. Should you choose to disobey them, I will have no recourse but to report you to Captain Pellew. I imagine he would not be at all pleased." He turned his gaze to Archie. "And you, Mr. Kennedy. I charge you with the responsibility of his well-being. See that he rests." With a dip of his head, the doctor left the room.

"You heard the man, Horatio," Archie said. "To bed."

"Archie…"

"I'll have none of that, sir," Archie said, taking Horatio's arm and steering him toward the door. "You are going to rest."

Horatio sighed, knowing how stubborn Archie could be. "Aye, aye," he said glumly. "To bed it is."

*****

Horatio, frustrated, lay back upon his bed, hands behind his head, and tried to calm himself. He despised this forced inactivity. He felt fine. Wanting to prove it, he sat up abruptly, and the wound in his back screamed at him, lines of fire running up his spine.

"Dammit," he swore loudly.

"Well, it serves you right," said Archie as he came through the door, closing it behind him. He carried a bowl of what smelled to be soup and a mug of something to drink. Placing them on top of Horatio's sea chest, he turned and regarded his friend.

"I thought Dr. Hepplewhite ordered you to stay abed," he said sternly.

"He only ordered me to my quarters, Archie, not my bed. I cannot just sit still, or I shall lose my mind." He peered suspiciously at the bowl Archie had brought. "What have you there?"

Archie grinned as he sat down, the bowl of soup in his hand. "A fine soup, created specially for you by the cook, with plenty of beef and vegetables to help you heal. It's actually palatable, Horatio." He dipped a spoon into the bowl and held it out to Horatio. "Here. Try it."

Horatio glared at him, making no move to taste the soup, though it smelled delicious and his stomach was rumbling like cannon-fire. "I am quite capable of feeding myself, Mr. Kennedy."

Archie sighed as he dropped the spoon back into the bowl. "And you call **me** stubborn? For mercy's sake, Horatio, I just want to help you." A gleam came into his eye as he held the bowl out to Horatio. "You're going to drink, you're going to eat, and you're going to get better."

Horatio paused from reaching for the bowl. "Archie? Another memory?"  


Archie grinned, his smile as wide as the ocean upon which he belonged. "Yes, Horatio, a memory. One of many. One of all, in fact."

Horatio gaped at him, his hunger forgotten. "All? Do you mean it, Archie?"

Archie laughed. "Indeed I do, sir. I remember everything, from growing up at Kennedy Manor, to _Justinian_, to Muzillac and El Ferrol - everything, Horatio."

"Archie! That's wonderful!"

"Yes," Archie agreed, gently pushing the bowl of soup at Horatio. "It is. And it will be even more wonderful when you have gotten your strength back, so eat. Eat!"

Horatio, pleased at the turn of events, dug into the soup with gusto. It wasn't until he had finished the whole bowl and drunk the fresh water that Archie had brought him that a thought occurred to him.

"What's happened with Malley and Fuller?"

Archie's eyes clouded slightly. "Captain Pellew has turned Fuller off the ship. He said he was a fool to be so easily led by someone like Malley, though I think that part of it is because he has a wife at home with a child on the way, and Pellew felt sorry for her. Fuller's cutting me with the knife was not intentional, it was decided, but Pellew did not want a man such as him in His Majesty's Navy. Fuller seemed rather relieved."

"I would imagine," Horatio snorted. "And what of Malley?"

"He'll be court-martialed tomorrow morning."

"Good," said Horatio, feeling no sympathy for the man. This had been a long time coming. "I want to be there."

"No, Horatio," Archie said softly. "I knew you would feel that way, so I asked both the doctor and the captain. Both said you must stay here and recover."

"Archie…"

"I'll be there, Horatio. I'll be there for the both of us." Archie's voice was quiet, but colored with a layer of steel and resolve, and Horatio realized with that one simple statement that the old Archie he'd known for so long was gone, replaced by one who was finally at peace with his past. He was an officer through and through, with a strength and internal courage that was going to surprise a lot of people. But not me, Horatio thought with a smile. I've always known it was there, just waiting to be led out of the darkness.

"And that is how it should be, Archie," he agreed, and Archie looked at him in surprise.

"No argument?"

Horatio shook his head as he smiled at his friend. "Not this time, Archie. You were the one who had to deal with Malley for so long, and you were the target of his hatred, more than anyone else. You should be the one to be there."

Archie smiled in return. "I am glad you understand, Horatio." He leaned back against the bulkhead. "I'm very pleased that you have finally acquired a taste for the finer things in life, by-the-bye."

Horatio frowned. "Finer things? You speak of cook's soup?"

Archie laughed. "No, you fool. I mean Shakespeare."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Shakespeare, Horatio. Author, wrote wonderful plays? Historical, romantic, tragic, comic? Even had a character named Horatio in one of them?"

"Blast it, Archie," Horatio said with irritation. "I know who Shakespeare is. Why on earth would you think I have developed an appreciation for him?"

"Because, Horatio, when Malley stabbed you, just as you collapsed in my arms, you quoted Shakespeare to me."

"I did not," Horatio said, appalled.

"You did," Archie replied smugly. "Though this be madness, yet there is method in 't. Do you recall it now?"

"I do not," Horatio said. "You are mistaken, Mr. Kennedy."

"No, I am not," Archie laughed. "It's from Hamlet."

"Oh, good god," Horatio groaned. "I was delirious, Archie, that is the only explanation. And you have read that damn play to me so many times that I suppose it was inevitable that something become stuck in my brain and leak out at some point." He avoided Archie's eyes. "And you must admit, it did fit the situation. Malley was mad, but there was a sort of method to his madness."

Archie nodded. "And Shakespeare was apropos, for Malley doesn't know a hawk from a handsaw anymore. Ah, Horatio, now that you have joined the well-bred and educated, think of all the opportunities you will have to show your knowledge of the Bard, all the many quotes you may use to inspire the men."

Horrified, Horatio stared at his friend. "I have not, and I will not, Archie. It was just the one time, when I was out of my head with pain. It shall not happen again, I promise."

Archie laughed, his blue eyes sparkling at Horatio, who felt a warmth steal over him. This was his old friend Archie, all right, albeit a new and improved version, and Horatio was very grateful to see his return. Even though their new friendship had developed into something strong and wonderful, it was the old friendship he never wanted to lose - the two men who knew each other so instinctively well that often there was no need for words between them.

"You were right, you know, Horatio."

"Of course I was," Horatio answered leaning back against the bulkhead and managing to grimace only a little at the brief pain. "About what?"

"About the ties that bind us together."

"Oh," Horatio said, a little uncomfortably as he recalled that conversation. "Look, Archie, I was trying to reach you in any way I could, and I - "

"You were being honest," Archie said softly. "The word has never been said between us, Horatio, but surely we both know it is there. Let us not diminish it by denying it." He looked steadily at Horatio. "It is the love of friends, of brothers, Horatio, and even if it is never said again, I want you to know that it is there."

"I **do** know, Archie," Horatio said steadily, amazed that they could be speaking of such an emotion without embarrassment. "I have always known."

A soft smile touched Archie's lips, and he held out his hand to Horatio. "I am honored to call you friend, sir.

Horatio smiled back as he leaned forward, clasping the offered hand in a firm handshake. "And I to do the same, sir. May it ever be so."

"It will, Horatio. It will. My word on it."

****


	19. Chapter Nineteen

****

Chapter Nineteen

So it's done, thought Archie as he left the courtroom. It had taken almost no time for Malley to be found guilty of assaulting two officers and sentenced to hang the following morning. It will be a long night for him, Archie thought grimly, but I cannot feel pity for him. He was well aware of the penalties for what he was doing.

Deep in thought as he made his way down the street, he didn't notice Whitney until he was almost atop him. He raised his head to look at the seaman, and saw that the boy's eyes were wet with tears, and he kept wiping at his dripping nose. He followed Malley, Archie thought dully. No doubt he considered him a friend, and now he must watch that friend swing from a noose. A difficult thing, to be sure.

"Mr. Whitney," he said quietly as he stopped in the street.

Whitney shuffled his feet, looking up and down the street, up at the sky, down at the dusty ground beneath their feet - anywhere but in Archie's direction. He was obviously struggling with something very hard for him, and Archie let him be, waiting until the boy was ready.  


"Mister Kennedy," Whitney finally croaked out, and then fell silent.

Archie regarded the young man for a moment, then gently put a hand on his arm. "I know this is difficult, Whitney, but you must know that Malley deserves death for what he did."

Whitney lifted his head up, and Archie was struck by the anguish in his eyes as Whitney wiped them dry. "I know, sir, it's jus', well, it's jus' - he ain't the only one, sir."

"Fuller was given his release by the captain - he'll serve some prison time, but he'll not hang. It was the captain's decision."

Whitney was shaking his head vehemently. "No, sir, that ain't what I mean, sir."

Archie sighed and drew the young man into a nearby alley, away from any passerby who might overhear them. "Then what **do** you mean, Whitney?"

Whitney didn't answer for a moment, and Archie was stunned to see that he looked absolutely terrified. His eyes kept darting all around, and he was nearly wringing his hands in front of him.

"Speak up, Whitney. What are you trying to tell me?"

A single tear escaped Whitney's eye and trailed down his cheek. "It were me, sir."

"What was you?"

"I's the one who hit you at the Mermaid."

Archie, surprised, looked at him. "You, Whitney?"

"Yes," Whitney said miserably, not meeting his eyes.

"Why?" It was almost a whisper from Archie.

"Cuz Malley tol' me that you 'n' Mr. 'Ornblower was doin' unnatural things, things that you shoulda hung fer. He said you liked that stuff, that you might try it with me."

Archie closed his eyes. "No, Whitney. Mr. Hornblower and I are friends only, and I would never attempt anything untoward with you or any other man."

"I know that now, sir. It's jus' that Malley sounded so convincin', and I were so scared that you'd ask me to, and all I ever wanted to do was sail, sir, only ever wanted to be a sailor, din't want no trouble, so when I seen you 'n' Malley fightin', I thought, Malley'll protect me from you, so I gotta get on his good side, I gotta be his friend so nothin' bad never 'appens to me."

Oh god, Archie thought, the horror of the realization tearing a hole in his mind and his heart. He thought I would force him - he thought I was like Simpson. No wonder he wanted Malley - or anybody - to protect him. How long did **I** wish for someone to protect me, how many times did I lie in my hammock crying because I knew that nobody cared what happened to me?

"Whitney," he said quietly. "You will always be safe when you are under my command, do you hear me? I want you to know that if anyone **ever** makes such an overture to you, or threatens you in any way, you must come to me immediately, and I will take care of it. Do you understand me? I will protect you."

"Ain't no use," Whitney said, hanging his head. "I gotta hang like Malley."

"No," Archie said sharply. "You will not."

Slowly, Whitney raised his head, meeting Archie's steady gaze. "But I hit you, sir. I's the reason you missed your watch that time, I's the reason you got flogged. I gotta take 'sponsibility for me actions. Malley's gonna hang, so I gotta too."

"I'll not have a man hung for something he was not responsible for."

"But - "

"I don't know who hit me, Whitney."

"But, sir, I'm tellin' ya, it were me."

"I never **saw** who hit me, Mr. Whitney," Archie said slowly, enunciating each word carefully. "I do not know who did it."

Whitney looked at him in amazement. Mr. Kennedy was going to let him go, after he'd assaulted him just like Malley had? He'd been wrong about the lieutenant, he realized, so very wrong. He was a good, honest, and just man who would take care of his men, even, Whitney thought, at the risk of his own life. And now I owe him mine, and somehow I must repay it.

He finally looked Archie in the eye, and nodded his head. "Thankee, sir."

Archie smiled. "There is nothing to thank me for, Mr. Whitney. All I ask is that you and the men do your duty, and all will be well."

"Aye, sir," said Whitney, standing straight one again. "An' Mr. Kennedy, sir, you won't regret this none. I'm gonna be the best sailor you ever seen." Knuckling a salute, he turned and left the alley, headed back toward _Indefatigable_.

A salute, Archie thought with pleasure. Well, it's a start, I suppose.

*****

"How are you feeling this afternoon, Mr. Hornblower?"

"Restless, if you must know, Mr. Kennedy. I fear I shall soon be as mad as Malley, if I cannot get up on deck soon."

"You know the doctor's orders, Horatio. Three more days confined to quarters, and then limited duty."

"Blast," Horatio fumed. "You might as well send me to Bedlam."

"Now **there's** a thought," Archie laughed, settling himself on the end of Horatio's bed. "How long do you think you'd last there?"

"Not very," Horatio sighed. "Not being able to feel the sea air on my face, or the swells of the ocean beneath my feet - no, thank you."

"Then you'd best follow the doctor's orders."

"I'll miss the hanging tomorrow," Horatio said. "Not that I enjoy seeing a man die, but I cannot think of anyone who deserves it more."

"No," Archie agreed, and a silence fell between them. Neither one relished the idea of a man being put to death, but both understood and accepted the need for such discipline in the navy. Malley had known the consequences of his actions.

"So tell me, Archie, what about Haversham?"

"Hmm?" Archie queried. "What about him?"

"You said you had recovered all of your memories. Does that include what you and Haversham were having words about after the gun blew?"

"Heavens, Horatio, I'd forgotten all about that! Yes, I do remember."

"So, what is it?" Horatio asked impatiently. "Did you find out what his great, deep, dark secret is, what the mystery is behind Luke Haversham?"

Archie laughed. "It's really no great mystery. It all started on a dark and stormy night, when Mrs. Haversham gave birth to a strong baby boy..."

Horatio groaned. "Good god, Archie, I do not need to know his whole life story, just the parts about why he was aboard the _Indy_, and why he never spoke of his life before he signed on. The important things, Archie, not your storytelling embellishments."

"Why, Horatio. I thought you enjoyed my stories."

"You thought wrong, Mr. Kennedy. Now, will you please tell me?"

"Well, it's all very simple," Archie said with a shrug. "See, Haversham grew up as the son of a groom who worked for Lord Kindrich."

Horatio pursed his lips and looked impressed. "Rich and important man."

"And very, very powerful. He was also very generous to the offspring of his servants, providing them with a good education, and everything they could need. That's why Haversham is so well spoken, and seemed to be more refined than your everyday, normal sailor."

"I'd noticed that," Horatio mused. "I wondered about it."

"Well, Haversham has always had an eye for the ladies, and they for him. He, um, became intimate with Lord Kindrich's daughter, and got her in a family way."

"I don't imagine that her father cared for that very much," Horatio said wryly, and Archie laughed.

"No, not at all. His daughter, with child to the son of a groom. Not exactly what he wished for her future. Anyway, he came after Haversham with a gun, and Luke ran. He knew there was no future for him there, and he also knew if Kindrich ever saw him again, he'd kill him, so he joined the Navy, signing on with the first ship that came available."

"The _Indy_."

"Yes," Archie nodded. "And just before Muzillac, I found out about what had happened. The girl, hastily married off by her father, had given birth to a son, and I had overheard some talk last time we were in Portsmouth about who the real father was. It didn't really matter to me what went on in Haversham's personal life, but I couldn't resist teasing him about his past catching up to him."

"I take it he wasn't happy about that."

Archie shrugged. "Actually, he didn't mind it too much, at first. I suppose I went a little far after awhile. And then after the gun blew, when I hauled him to his feet, I said to him "dodged another bullet, eh, Haversham?" I guess that was the final straw. He'd been thinking an awful lot about his son lately, and the girl, and he was feeling guilty enough already - he didn't need my harassment on top of it. So, we had words."

"Well, Mr. Kennedy, I hope you have learned your lesson. Not everyone enjoys being teased, you know."

"No, I suppose not," Archie sighed. Then he glanced up a Horatio, a devil-may-care grin upon his face. "Doesn't mean you're safe from it though."

"Damn," Horatio said mournfully.

*****

It was a cool, crisp morning, so lovely that it almost hurt. _Indefatigable_, still at anchor in the harbor, rocked gently, tugging at her anchor as if anxious to be out sailing free upon the wide ocean. The sun shone in an endless blue sky, the rays touching the water and painting it full of rainbows and hope as it began its trek upward.

In contrast to that, a yellow flag flew at the masthead of the _Indy_, and an air of solemnity filled her decks. The crew gathered on deck, all of the men unusually silent and grim, especially for such a beautiful morning. Today was not a celebration. Today they hung one of their own.

Captain Pellew, flanked by Lieutenant Bracegirdle and Lieutenant Kennedy, looked out over the gathered men. This was never a pleasant task. His eyes briefly met Archie's, and with a nod, he turned to the crew, removing his hat. The crew did the same as they looked up at their captain.

"Prepare to run him up," came the simple command. Six crew members, those who had recently suffered punishments of their own, placed a noose around the neck of seaman Malley, then stood waiting.

"Seaman Malley," Pellew said, his voice controlled but still carrying to all corners of the ship. "You have been found guilty of violating the 21st Article of War, which states: If any officer, mariner, soldier or other person in the fleet, shall strike any of his superior officers, or draw, or offer to draw, or lift up any weapon against him, being in the execution of his office, on any pretence whatsoever, every such person being convicted of any such offense, by the sentence of a court martial, shall suffer death; and if any officer, mariner, soldier or other person in the fleet, shall presume to quarrel with any of his superior officers, being in the execution of his office, or shall disobey any lawful command of any of his superior officers; every such person being convicted of any such offence, by the sentence of a court martial, shall suffer death, or such other punishment, as shall, according to the nature and degree of his offence, be inflicted upon him by the sentence of a court martial."

Pellew paused and replaced his hat firmly on his head. "Do you have any final words, Jethro Malley?"

Malley looked at Archie and spat. "I do not."

"Then may God have mercy upon your soul," Pellew said emotionlessly, and gave the order. "Run him up." A single gunshot was fired. Malley was run up the yardarm and blessedly died almost instantly, his neck broken. Archie watched his body as it jerked and then was still, and tried to find something good in his heart to think about the man, but he couldn't. There had not been one single redeeming characteristic about Jethro Malley, and it was for the good of the ship that he was dead.

Pellew watched Archie for a moment, knowing how difficult the last several months had been, but feeling proud of the lad for the way he had handled himself throughout it. With a final glance at the corpse of Malley dangling from the yard, he called Archie to his side.

"Yes, Captain?"

"My cabin in a quarter hour, Mr. Kennedy. We have something to discuss."

"Aye, sir," said Archie as he watched his captain turn and leave, and his heart sank. No doubt he would be called to task for his failure to redeem Malley, and for the loss of two crewmembers from his division. Well, he deserved whatever the captain would give him. At least it would not be another flogging.

Fifteen minutes later on the dot, he presented himself before his captain.

"Come in, Mr. Kennedy," Pellew said, and Archie felt a small stirring of hope. There was no anger or disapproval in Pellew's tone, and no stern look upon his face. Perhaps he was not in as much trouble as he had envisioned.

"Aye, sir?" he said, a little nervous nonetheless.  


"Relax, Mr. Kennedy," Pellew said with a smile. "I am not here to reprimand you, nor to order you to another flogging."

Archie winced. "I thank you for that, sir."

"The reason I asked you here is for this," Pellew said, his hand resting on a document that lay upon his desk. "It concerns the business I had to conduct at the Admiralty the other day."

"I remember," Archie said, eyeing the document. "It was the day of my exam."

Pellew nodded. "I have already dispatched the other message. Lieutenant Lawson, who has distinguished himself very well over the last several years, has been transferred to the _Excellent_ as fourth lieutenant."

Archie's eyebrow quirked. "Under Collingwood - no, wait, now it's Captain Robert Stopford. That is a wonderful opportunity. He's done well for himself."

"Indeed he has. However, that leaves me just a little short of officers."

"Aye, sir," said Archie, still busy picturing Lawson aboard the 74 _Excellent_. "I expect it does, sir."

Pellew shook his head, and handed him the packet from the desk. "If you will open that, sir."

Archie took the package, noting his name elegantly spelled out on the envelope, and then broke the seal and pulled out the papers from within. He scanned them quickly.

__

My Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty having been

pleased to appoint you a Lieutenant of H.M.'s ship 

Indefatigable...

He looked up at Pellew, a wide grin splitting his face. "I'm to stay aboard the _Indy_, sir?"

"Aye," Pellew said, smiling back at him. "I did not feel it would be for the good of the service to have you assigned to a ship away from Mr. Hornblower. The two of you work very well together."

"Yes, sir, we do," Archie said, feeling his joy about to burst from his chest. To receive his commission and stay aboard the _Indy_ as a full lieutenant - it was more than he had ever dreamed possible. "I do not know how to thank you, sir."

"It's not necessary, Lieutenant Kennedy," Pellew said. "You are a fine officer, and will only be an asset to my ship. However, I think it only fair to tell you something."

"Yes, sir?"

Pellew regarded him, dark eyes looking into blue. "There will come a time, sir, when an opportunity will present itself for me to have you transferred to another ship. Rest assured that when I do, it will be with a great deal of regret at your loss, but it will only be to further your career. The ship I choose for you and Mr. Hornblower, for I will do my damnedest to keep you together, will be only the finest, with great opportunity for advancement for you both. You both have a bright future in this navy, sir, and I will do whatever I may to further it."

"Thank you, sir," said Archie with wonder. "And may I say, sir, that it has always been an honor and a privilege to serve at your side. I could have learned from no one better, sir."

Pellew smiled. "Thank you, Mr. Kennedy. And now, I expect you wish to share your good news with Mr. Hornblower."

"Aye, sir," Archie said, his face lighting up. "I believe he will be quite pleased."

"I would hope so," Pellew said dryly, and then held out his hand. "Welcome home, Mr. Kennedy."

"Thank you, sir," Archie said, clasping the captain's hand and shaking it firmly. "It is indeed my home."

A look passed between the two men, one of mutual respect and understanding, and then Pellew nodded.

"Very good. Dismissed, Mr. Kennedy."

Archie snapped to attention and tendered a smart salute, which Pellew returned with a brief smile. He left the room, wanting to see Horatio and tell him the wonderful news, but knowing that there was something he had to do first. It was time that he looked on the _Indy_ with new eyes, time that he looked at her as **his** ship, his future. The past no longer concerned him, and now he felt as if the future was opening up for him, with limitless possibilities and joy. As he stepped up on deck, he took a deep breath, looking around the deck of his ship as he did.

His ship. Archie smiled at the thought, knowing that everything he had ever dreamed of, everything he had worked so hard for, was here in the sleek timbers of _Indefatigable_, aboard her gleaming decks, high above in her masts and sails, and down in her holds that no longer frightened him. He'd never known a home before, but now he had one, a place where he belonged, where he was wanted and respected. A place that held no demons.

He took a moment to watch all the men as they went about their duties, seeing Walters as he showed Whitney the best way to tie the rigging, and he smiled as he saw Haversham tease the lad a bit, the three of them easy and natural with each other. Haversham was a different man now that he knew Archie would not betray his secret to Lord Kindrich and his like, and he was taking an interest in Whitney, helping the boy in his duties aboard ship. He smiled as he watched them while they worked. His men. They were fine men, all, and he was proud to serve with them. With all of the crew.

A grin lit his face as he thought of the one certain person he was most proud to serve with. His best friend, his fellow officer, and the man who had helped to lead him out of the darkness that had held him captive for so long. A new chapter of his life was beginning, and he wanted to share it with Horatio. And so, with a grace born of long years at sea, he crossed the deck of the _Indy_ and went below to tell his good news to Horatio, knowing that the ties that bound them could never be broken.

~Fin~

****


End file.
